


A Love Greater than Duty

by The_PrincessCat



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cannon compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Falling In Love, Familial Relationships, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Love, Love greater than Duty, M/M, Pre-Canon, Trying to live when the world is about to End, You can Love more than One person at a Time, canon typical death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27593851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_PrincessCat/pseuds/The_PrincessCat
Summary: For two thousand years the Kings and Queens of the chosen bloodline have needed a shield. Hundreds of Shields have pledged their lives to their Liege. When the young King Regis is present with the Son of the current Shield, he is hesitant. Why must he too have to be paired, for life, with someone the fates decide?What Regis didn't know was that this relationship would turn into one of the greatest things in his life. As Regis grows up, he learns to be a Prince and from there, a King. In a different time, in a different world, it could have been the greatest Love story ever written. However, Eos has been in strife and war is an ever present threat on the horizon.Friends and lovers become us all and in the end, Regis must make the ultimate sacrifice for the world so that Eos and his son may be saved. A life created for the Chosen King, but along the way Regis finds that you can love more than one person.
Relationships: Aulea Lucis Caelum/Regis Lucis Caelum, Clarus Amicitia & Weskham Armaugh & Cor Leonis & Regis Lucis Caelum & Cid Sophiar, Clarus Amicitia/Amber Lily Amicitia (OC), Clarus Amicitia/Regis Lucis Caelum, Cor Leonis/Regis Lucis Caelum, Weskham Armaugh/Regis Lucis Caelum, Weskham Armaugh/Regis Lucis Caelum/Clarus Amicitia
Kudos: 9
Collections: FFXV Rarepair Big Bang 2020





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I have been so excited to finally post my rare pair, RegClar fic. I spent a lot of time researching the Lore and trying to get everything perfect. This fiction is a labor of love and I really hope you enjoy it. The events written here are as cannon compliant as I can get (as Square has some inconsistencies in their own data). 
> 
> I want to thank both my partner Xhidaka and Amitiel for spending hours reading and betaing my work. Without them, this would be a massive pile of gibberish. So thank you
> 
> Now, less rambling and more fic.

The day they met was like any other day. Insomnia’s summers were always hot, but King Mors was insistent that today, in the morning heat, they would meet by way of sparring in the training field located in the center of the Citadel. Clarus Amicitia had been chosen earlier that month, and Prince Regis had done everything in his powers to avoid meeting the man with whom he would spend more of his life than his future wife. 

“You really should go down and meet him.” Aulea chuckled, placing her hand to her mouth as she shifted on Regis’s bed. 

“It's my seventh birthday. Last thing a prince should be doing on his birthday is training!” Regis whined, flipping over on his stomach. 

“You know that Cid is coming to get you, right?” There was more giggling from Aulea as Regis groaned and rolled back over, sitting up. 

“Yeah. I’ll go.” Regis hopped to his feet, moving across the large room towards his door. At all costs, Regis would avoid getting a lecture from Cid. Why his father had someone over twice his age watching over him constantly never made any sense to the young prince. 

“Bet that guy’s never seen anyone do this though!” Regis flexed his fingers, shooting his arm out from his side, summoning a sword from the armiger. 

Aulea, who had hopped from the bed, made small ‘oohs’. “When’d you learn that?” 

“Yesterday! I wanted to show my dad today, but-” Regis let out a sigh, shaking his head, “He’s busy. As always.” 

Regis pushed the door open, and started his way towards the elevators. As the two moved, a single Crownsguard who had been standing at his door, followed at exactly two paces behind the duo. To most this was odd, but to Regis it was normal; another strange oddity of being royalty.

“I’m sure he’ll be at your party, which I must be getting ready for. I’ll see you tonight. Happy birthday.” Aulea stopped Regis, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek before she shuffled down in the opposite direction.    
  
“Girls are weird.” Regis shrugged, and continued down to the hallway towards elevators that would ultimately lead to Clarus. 

The hallway was short, but by the time Regis had managed to get to the single elevator that came this high in the citadel, his nerves had definitely returned. Being able to complain to Aulea had taken most of the anxiety out of him, but now he was alone alone with his thoughts and all the fears came crashing back. 

Regis let out a slow breath, the Crownsgaurd pressing the down button. Edmon was his name? There were so many guards that the King assigned to ‘babysit’. It was all temporary until the Prince’s Shield started his job.

Regis was stuck, thinking on all the things that could go wrong. What happened if they ended up hating each other? Would his father allow him to pick another Shield? The training it took to be Shield took years, and only the best of the best were allowed to give their life for the Crown. It was now or never to meet the man who would stand by him for the rest of his life. 

The elevator ride down to the main floor seemed to take ages, each floor ticking by like a grandfather clock. 

_ Ding. Ding. Ding. _

The guard was none the wiser to the young prince’s thoughts or his worry. In fact, he was probably grateful that the Prince had finally decided to take the final step so he would no longer be stuck staring at a wall for endless hours. 

As Regis shifted from foot to foot, he wondered what his father would do if he once again evaded this meeting. Would Cid come and find him? Force him to meet Clarus once and for all? Regis had already been threatened with an increase of training and he was on the verge of being grounded. Any more creative punishments his father could come up with were too much, and the thought made the young prince shudder. Sitting in on the council chamber meets? Ugh.

Regis felt a shiver run down his spine, quickly shaking the thought from his head as the doors finally slid open, and Regis reluctantly exited. The hallway was completely deserted, every breath and movement seemed to echo against the marble. He was given another moment, another chance to flee.

He didn’t. 

The walk down the hallway towards his future Shield seemed to grow longer with each step. There was a soft and consistent beat in his ear.  _ Thump thump. Thump thump. _ His heart, and the nerves contained within him were keeping time while everything else around Regis stood still. 

Finally, they made it to the set of double doors and Regis placed his hand on the wood. He felt the cool oak door, the smooth finish and the elegant embellishments. His heartbeat moved from his ears to the palm of his hand, the soft thrumming against the door centering him in his decision. Regis inhaled slowly, his father’s words playing through his mind. 

‘A Prince will learn to be a king through the way he deals with the situations put before him. Will he be a good king or a bad king? Every choice you make, large or small, will lead you down the path to your destiny, no matter the gravity of the decision.’ 

Regis let the breath exit his nose, and pushed forward. He would be a good king.

The courtyard before him was large. It was surrounded on all sides by either the Citadel itself or the high walls. There was a breeze dancing through the few decorative trees and rustling the grass that grew around the dirt pit. Normally, there were others who trained here, while others leisured with a book or a date. Today, there were only two people standing in the courtyard. 

One was an adult that Regis knew well. It was his father's own Shield. Validus was around often, and he was a sight to behold. He towered over his son, and in his regal vestments, he was not someone many would want to take on. Regis thought back on it, and he was uncertain if he'd’ ever seen Validus without his armour. His long black flowing robes were tied at the waist, and seemed to be almost too comfortable. 

Beside the statue of a man was his son, Clarus Amicitia. Clarus was tall for his age, even if he was only five years older than Regis. Clarus was deep in a conversation with his father, and it seemed as if the man was attempting to give him a pep talk. Was Regis late?

He looked at the sun dial off to the side of the training grounds, furrowing his brow. According to that, he was right on time. Perhaps it was wrong? The embers of worry that Regis had been relatively successful at stomping out flared back, his chest feeling suddenly tight.

“Ah.” Validus spoke, a firm frown etching into the corners of the man’s lips. “It seems our young prince has decided to grace us with his presence. Do join us.”

There was no turning back now. 

Clarus was tall and broad, even for a twelve year old. Regis was skinny and, even if he ate 100 portions, never gained an ounce. 

In almost the blink of an eye, Regis stood before the two. Validus and Clarus gave short bows before Validus cleared his throat to speak. “Are you ready to begin your training, Highness?” 

The answer was no, but that was obviously not why he had shown up. “Clarus will be personally taking on your training regimen from this point on. As your future Shield, it is his responsibility to train you and keep you safe. Understood?”

Regis nodded, and before he could open his mouth to respond, Validus had moved off to the side of the field and crossed his arms to watch. 

Letting out a slow breath, Regis extended his hand out. With a pop and a cocky grin, he pulled his wooden training sword from the Armiger. “Bet you didn’t expect that?”

Clarus did in fact seem surprised, but the look quickly dropped from his face as he lifted up his own, much larger, practice sword. “On your mark, your Highness.” 

Regis smirked, leaning back in preparation. This was not his first spar, but it would be his first training lesson with someone who wasn’t fully grown. In comparison, it was an equal match. Regis had trained with Validus, he had trained with some of the smaller Crownsgaurd in the Crown’s employ, but never someone who would really be able to give it their all against him. 

Regis sprang forward, pushing through the grass, and swiping down with a right hand strike. 

Clarus was quicker than Regis could have thought. The large wooden sword came up, and the two wooden swords thunked together. There was a smile on the boy’s face as Regis stepped back.

“Well?” He would have to rethink his plan of attack.

Was he trying to show off? Likely, but this was an impression that would last a lifetime. Multiple times, Regis came at Clarus, and every time, he blocked. After a few swings, Regis was starting to tire,but, Clarus had yet to make a move. Regis realized too late that he was being reckless. 

Regis remained on his toes, lunging forward, striking straight on only to be fended off by the broadsword. Regis’s foot slipped, and he skidded. In that moment of hesitation, Clarus took his first offensive move, swinging sideways at the prince. 

The heavy sword connected with Regis’s side, and all the air fled from his lungs. He was on his back, the world spinning as his body fought to remember how to breathe. Regis was on hands and knees, doubled over, coughing as Clarus came to his side. With one big gulp of air, Regis felt the world slam back down all around him.

“I’m sorry!” The boy placed his hand gently on Regis’s back. After a moment, he was able to breathe normally, and he flopped onto his back on the cool grass. 

“That’s gonna bruise!” But Regis laughed, looking up at the bright blue eyes that stared down at him. 

Regis would never forget the day that he met Clarus. The bruise from that wooden sword lasted him almost two months. Or perhaps it was different bruises over a period of time in the same spot. Clarus’s training sessions were always at the top of his potential. After their first meeting, Regis was expected to train with Clarus three times a week, and the amount of time they began to have with each other was growing. 

At first, Regis hadn’t liked the forced interactions. However, having a second pair of hands around turned out to be a very useful thing. 

~~~~

“Okay, so Aulea is going to be wearing a blue dress.” Regis looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting the blue tie his father had bought him to match his date's dress. “Did you ever manage to find a date?”

King Regis’s twelfth birthday ball was about to start, and if he was late, Mors would skin them both. 

“I decided against it, Regis. I can’t keep my eyes on you and a date at the same time.” Clarus had been ready for the past thirty minutes or more, dressed in a matching black and white tux with a simple black tie. He had no desire to add color into his attire. 

“Oh, come on Clar. You really are gonna have to start dating at some point. After all, you gotta produce me a Shield for whatever kid me and Aulea pop out!” Regis laughed, finally getting his tie straight in the mirror. 

“I understand that you believe yourself to marry the young Aulea, but do you really think your father would approve? I believe he is looking into one of the many cousins of Lady Sylvia. Perhaps a pairing of the Lucii and the Oracle is to happen sooner rather than later?”

“Clarus!” Regis pushed himself back, looking at his best friend. There was a slight blush that Regis quickly covered up by shifting his back to Clarus. “If I keep at my dad, he’ll eventually fold. Let's go before they get bored and start my party without me!” 

Clarus rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest, moving towards the door out of Regis’s bedroom. There was no guard standing post today as they moved towards the elevators once again. As Regis grew older and Clarus became even more competent, the need was decreasing for the Prince to have a Crownsguard present all the time. 

“Your father is getting very ill, isn’t he?” Clarus looked down at Regis as the doors chimed open before them .

“Yeah.” Regis let out a sigh, dropping his head. “He’s starting to teach me all about taking over the throne. The old wall is really taking a lot out of him and he will need to pull it in closer again. I know people hate him, say he’s a bad king, but-”

Regis stared at himself in the mirror at the back of the elevator. Even at twelve, he looked just like his father. People told him that all the time. That was just it though. He was still a child by all accounts, and if he was to take the throne in the next few years he would lose all bits of his growing up years to politics. 

“I don’t think your father is going to kick the bucket any time soon.” Clarus pressed the button to the ballroom, and the doors closed behind them. “He might be aging and becoming cantankerous, but he’s stronger than you might think.” 

“Yeah. I’m not ready to be King, Clarus.” Regis spoke after a moment, the elevator clicking slowly between the floors.    
  
“Highness,” Clarus placed his hand on the young boy's shoulder. “You’ll do fine, whatever life throws at you.” 

“Thanks,” Regis turned around, a small smile on his lips.    
  


“Now,” The doors opened behind Clarus and the sounds of a large crowd and soft playing music rushed them. “Are you ready to go find your date?”

~~~~

“The name is Weskham Armaugh, your highness.” The young man placed a plate of food before Regis and he was immediately bombarded with a myriad of sensations. 

“And my dad has placed you in my retinue?” Regis picked up the fork, and skewered a perfectly cooked slice of meat, regarding it with a raised eyebrow. It wasn’t easy to resist the urge to barbarically gorge on the anak steak. 

“Correct.” Weskham spoke with an accent that was unfamiliar to the Prince. Regis’s eyes moved from the dark skinned man to Clarus with a head tilt. 

“And you are from?” Regis asked, just as he placed the meat on his tongue and suppressed a moan as the flavors melted in his mouth, even before he chewed. There was a long moment as he savoured every spike in flavor. They danced and sang stories to him that would vanish as soon as he swallowed. 

“Keycatrich, your Highness.” Weskham had stepped back just far enough to allow Regis room to eat. One arm was folded behind his back while the other was folded in front of him, a single white towel over his arm. 

A soft groan of approval escaped Regis’s lips as he swallowed the food, returning his attention to Weskham. “You can call me Regis.” He was trying everything to hide the undignified noise he had just let loose. “Where’d you learn how to cook?” 

Regis had been briefed only slightly before he had been tossed into this meeting. Weskham was seventeen years old and had recently been forced out of his home with the receding wall’s protection. He was a mere three years older than Regis, and he acted as if he was far older. 

Weskham’s face twisted into a frown, but only for a moment as he processed the new information. “Of course, Regis.” The word sounded forced, as if it took everything in his power to not slip back into formalities. “I have been learning to cook since I was a child. My father owned a restaurant in our homeland and taught me everything he knew.”

“What brings you to Insomnia?” Regis forced himself to take a breath between bites. The green beans were al dente and the crunch gave way to a perfect level of juicy flavor.

“Your-” Weskham paused, letting a slow sigh escape his lips “Regis. You are aware that the old wall is being pulled back by the day. My home no longer is under the protection of the Crown. It was only a matter of time before we would have had to leave.” 

The tone in Regis’s voice was flat as he folded his hands on the table in front of his food. Of course he had known this, but it was still something he had wanted to know in person. “I’m sorry.”

Weskham simply blinked and took a step forward, towards the table. “If I may, your Highness?   


There was a moment where Regis’s countenance shifted, confusion breaching the mask of professionalism he needed to uphold. At least for now. “You may.”

“I am fine with the way life has turned. I will be alright. I wish to be of service to you, and perhaps, one day, return to my home. It is not a bother. While others may be upset, I am not and would not hold it against you.” Weskham let a soft smile settle over his face. Regis felt something stir deep in his stomach, a blush crossing his cheeks. 

“If you say so.” Regis let a nod come over him as he went back to the food. He tried to ignore the muffled chuckle from Clarus, and pretended his Shield was not in the room as he continued. “You learned well, by the way. This is very delicious.” 

~~~~

Cor Leonis stood halfway up the stairs, his hands tucked into the small of his back when Regis entered the throne room. It had been a very short period of time that Prince Regis had known who Cor was, and in that time, the boy had made his way into King Mors’s personal guard. Regis was wary that a boy so young could be competent. His eyes lingered on the small boy on the steps amongst the other Crownsguard. The youngest Crownsgaurd ever, a prodigy. A hot headed youth.

King Mors sat on the throne, the throne that would one day be his. The thought that his father would pass, and sooner than he wanted, made Regis slightly sick to his stomach. All this would be his, and he wasn’t ready.

Regis looked up at that chair, his father sitting straight backed. He looked like part of the furniture, unmoving and stern. However, he also could see the age in his features. He looked almost twenty years older, and it was all because of the wall. The more Nifflheim attacked it, the more stress it put on him. That stress would also be his soon, and Regis didn’t want that either. 

At King Mors’s side was Validus, his posture a mirror of Cor’s and every other Crownsguard on the steps. 

Regis let his lips curl up ever so slightly, coming to the edge for the two tiered set of stairs. “You called for me, father?” 

Regis could feel Clarus at his back, as a well trained Shield. “I did. I fear we are on the brink of war, and not this aggression that we are currently pushing back. I mean an all out war, our territories are in danger as are our alliances.” 

This was not news to Regis’s ears, not in the slightest. “What do you need me to do?” 

“I am going to be increasing your training and your studies. You will be attending more council meetings as we prepare you for your trip outside the walls. You know what that entails, do you not?” It was difficult to read the King’s face from his spot, and a quick glance to Cor gave no tells. 

How did a boy so young end up not only convincing Validus to take the test to be a Crownsgaurd but also end up on the King’s personal force? Regis had heard about it, but by the time it had reached his ears, it had become more of a rumor than a fact and every time he had brought it up to either Validus or his father, he was quickly dismissed. The question burned in the back of Regis’s mind. 

Regis lowered his head in a bow as he spoke. “Has a date been chosen?”

“It has. We will be having a peace meeting in Altissia to discuss our continued amnesty and provide any support we are able to the rumoured conversation of war that we have intercepted over our frequencies.” Mors cleared his throat. 

“I will relay the details to Weskham and Cid and they will brief you on the situation. That is all.” 

The words were final. Dismissive. It was how the King was, and by now, Regis had come to expect it. With no mother to speak of and a father who cared little, he had turned to others for a source of comfort. He did not expect it from the man with whom he shared a name with. 

“As you wish, your Majesty.” 

Regis bowed lower, before standing erect and turning on his heel. He left the throne room without another word, Clarus a constant presence at his back. 

“We should go locate Weskham. I’d say he’s got the details already. Ain’t a gambling man, but if I were...” Clarus’s face was pulled tight in worry as they loitered in the mezzanine. 

“What do you know about Cor?” Regis spoke, as if he hadn’t heard what Clarus had said. His sky blue eyes were twinkling, trying to unravel a mystery and not at all worried that the King was preparing for his own death. 

“Regis?” Clarus spoke, lifting one brow. “You realize that your father just said he was sending you out, right? What does Cor have to do with it?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Yeah, I’ve trained with him. Scary little fucker.” Clarus laughed, taking a step away from the door. “Now, come on. Let's find the old man.” 


	2. Falling Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every day life grows as Prince Regis and Clarus become closer. Training and typical boy stuff abound. If it wasn't for old man Cid everything would be perfect. The tight retinue grows stronger together, Weskham, Clarus and Prince Regis. However, that annoying /child/ 'Cor Leonis' seems to just strut around everywhere in Regis's face. When Prince Regis learns that they all must travel together on the road trip, he is uncertain if this will be his undoing.

Sweat dripped down Regis’s face as he held his sword at attention. Clarus was grinning wide as he stood with the wooden broadsword resting on his shoulders. The bare skin of the Shield glimmered in the bright sunlight. There were fresh tattooed wings on his biceps, and Regis knew that the wings connected on the Shield's backside, forming the image of Clarus being hugged by an eagle. 

“What, you lost your nerve?” Clarus goaded. 

“Now, now.” Weskham called from the sidelines, a book in hand. His eyes did not leave the pages as he played mediator between the two. 

Beside Weskham on the bench was a large teapot and several small cups. There was a domed metal dish cover, likely hiding a pastry or baked good from the few moments of ‘free’ time the man had away from the other two. 

“Oh, Regis can take it. He’s a big boy. Ain't that right, Regis?” There was a toothy and playful grin on Clarus’s face. 

“I know his game.” Regis didn’t move, the smaller sword in his hand wavering only slightly with his words. “He will  _ not _ get me with those simple tricks, anymore.”

Clarus let out a laugh, his blue eyes locked on the smaller man. “Yeah, but they used to work. You’re getting smarter!”

“Yeah, at least we can hope” Regis smirked. It happened quickly. That was where Regis excelled over Clarus. It wasn’t that the older man was incapable of keeping up. It just so happened that his bulk often got in the way where Regis was leaner and more limber. 

Regis threw the practice sword with all his might. It was as if he was sucked through a straw, his fingers only leaving the hilt for a moment. Regis was a foot above Clarus’s head, the man shifting to counter even as Regis twisted his weight and started falling downwards. 

Bracing the wooden sword with his forearm, Regis felt the blade connect with Clarus’s wooden broadsword. There was a shift in the momentum and Regis felt himself being propelled away. One final shift midair had Regis tossing the practice blade straight in an opening that Clarus left in his defense. The tip of the blade smashed straight into Clarus’s side, and Regis banished the blade as soon as he felt it draw blood. 

Panting, Regis found himself on the ground where Clarus was reaching for the new wound on his side. “You little pain in my ass.” But through the pain, there was a playful smirk. “I’ll make you pay for that, later.”

“I do hope so.” Regis grinned, standing up and summoning a potion from the armiger. He moved up to the Shield, looking at the wound as he put the potion in Clarus’s hands. 

“Sorry about that.” 

“It’s just a flesh wound.” Clarus grinned, bringing the drink to his lips. As he did so, the cut sizzled and healed over in front of his eyes. It was like nothing had ever happened. 

“Now, if you two are through I believe a break is in order?” Weskham closed his book gently, a small tassel hanging from the book to mark his place. Smoothly, the man adjusted his monocle and placed the book on the stone bench. As the Prince and his Shield moved over to him, Weskham lifted the dome to reveal the sweet plated on three small dishes. 

The smell of tangy lemon cake drifted to Regis’s nose, causing him to smile and let out a moan of approval. Clarus laughed, picking up one of the plates and grabbing the artistically glazed piece and shoving it into his mouth. All the while, Weskham poured them each a cup of tea with a hum. 

“I did bring utensils if you want to prove yourself more than a barbarian, Clarus.” Weskham tisked, a sharp noise coming from the motion of his tongue slapping the front of his teeth. 

Clarus simply laughed once more. “Ain't in the royal courts, Wesk. Perhaps the Prince should use his table manners though.” 

Regis rolled his eyes, grabbing a plate and one of the small dessert forks that Weskham had provided. “You might like being sticky, but I’ll pass.” 

Regis chuckled, looking as Weskham tried to stifle his own laughter, quickly finding his composure. “Whatever mess you two make, it’s always my job to clean it up.” 

Sudden heat flooded Regis’s face as he reached down for a cup of tea. “You know it's mostly Clarus's fault there are messes.” 

“Now, now.” Weskham chuckled as he reached for his own plate. He pulled his knee over the opposite leg as he straightened his posture. It had always been a mystery to the Prince how he had come to be such a proper gentleman. Weskham rarely spoke of his past. 

“I am not daft to your role in the mess making, young Prince.” There was a smile that spread over the advisor's face that made Regis’s mouth hang open. 

Clarus leaned in, placing his lips inches from Regis’s ear. “You better close that mouth before one of us finds something to put in it.”

Like logs to the flame, Clarus’s words caused the small flush to explode over his cheeks and nose and he could feel it crawling down his back. He swallowed hard, shifted away from Clarus. “You should learn how to speak to your future King!” 

Clarus grinned, shooting Weskham a knowing look. “You better close that mouth before one of us finds something to put in it, your Highness.”

~~~~

“What do you mean Cor is being assigned to my retinue for our trip?” Regis grabbed the paper out of Weskham’s fingers. 

Through the many years, Regis’s bedroom had changed with him. Play toys had been replaced by massive bookcases. A large oak desk had been added for his studies. It was shifted so he had a stunning view of the eastern side of Insomnia. Several bay windows were nearby, a lounge nestled between two towering shelves. 

The more childish pastels were now replaced with rich and elegant reds, golds and blacks. A partial curtain was pulled between the lower level and the upper level where his large four poster bed, side tables and armour stood. 

“You know, you should give the kid a chance.” Clarus was reading one of the many novels on the shelves, sitting in one of the two window lounges. 

“Regis, he is a very talented warrior. I, myself, have crossed swords with him. Needless to say, I have found out I’m not as good with a sword as he is.” Weskham spoke frankly, although his wording was likely intended to be an innuendo. 

“Still.” Regis let out a long huff, standing as he did so to move over to the window that was not occupied by his Shield. “I don’t think a child of-” Regis paused, turning to Weskham who had followed him as if hoping he would fill in the blanks. 

“Fifteen.” 

“I don’t think a child of fifteen is fit to be a bodyguard. Especially with the fact that the wall has been pulled back, again.” Regis let out a sigh, knowing that the attacks on the outlands of Lucis were growing more and more frequent. While the trip was necessary before they made their way to Altissia, it was not going to be entirely safe.

“Unfortunately.” Weskham let out a short sigh, folding his hands behind his back. “Your father, the King, has made it rather clear that Cor is coming with. You have no choice.” 

There was a long silence as Regis stared at the paper in his hands. Rage bubbled beneath the surface. Finally, he crumpled the pages in his fists, his hands trembling with the effort. “Everything in my life, everything! I have no say in. It’s just-”

Tears were brimming on the edge, and he just couldn't. Clarus was on his feet, his arms around Regis as the prince let the crumpled page fall to the ground. There was a moment where Regis sobbed, his fingers balling the fabric of Clarus’s shirt. Clarus simply let him be, holding him close. 

When he had cried out all the anger, Regis shifted back, bringing the back of his hand up to remove the tears. 

“No,” Clarus grabbed at Regis’s wrist, stopping the motion. “Let me.” 

Clarus reached his hand, palm up, towards Weskham who produced a handkerchief from the Armiger and let the light material fall into the calloused fingers of the older man. Delicately, he took the cloth to Regis’s, smirking at the blush that followed his touch. 

“There.” Clarus smiled softly, banishing the cloth back where it came from. “Now, I think we should finish that paperwork.”

“I will go fetch supper.” Weskham picked up the paper still resting on the floor as he moved towards the exit. 

“Hey, don’t be gone long.” Regis called, leaning into Clarus’s embrace, letting the larger man’s arms wrap around him. 

“I wouldn’t dare.”

~~~~

Regis groaned as he rolled over in his bed. It was too early for any of this.

There was a slight shift as a body slipped from the sheets, Regis reaching out towards the remaining warmth. As soon as his fingers found bare skin, he scooted in, letting the large arm of his Shield pull him in closer. 

“I would recommend you attempt to wake yourself. Breakfast will be served shortly.” Weskham’s voice came from across the room as he dressed from his previously naked state. Regis simply groaned from under the covers, eliciting a chuckle from Clarus. 

“I do have to get up too, your Royal Sleepiness. Ya know, training and stuff?” Yet Clarus made no move away from Regis. 

“Why? We’re heading out tomorrow on our trip anyway. Just, sleep in with me.” Regis spoke as the door to his room opened and closed, Weskham departing. 

Clarus let out a sigh, not wanting to admit that Regis was right. “Fine. This morning you may sleep, little prince, but only until breakfast.” 

“You know that Cid is coming with us at your father’s behest too. Right?” Clarus moved and started making small circles on the small of Regis’s back. 

Regis hummed, “Not him, too.” 

Regis balled into the larger arch of his Sheild’s body. It wasn’t but moments later that the man’s soft breathing and steady heart beat signified Regis had fallen back asleep. 

“We’ll talk about it when you wake up.”

The rest of the day was filled with preparation, Regis floating behind Clarus. His mind was elsewhere, uncertain of exactly why his father was pushing this trip so soon. It was true that he was now an adult and he needed to take this trip. It just felt that everything in his life was pushing him ever faster to the throne, and it was terrifying. 

That evening was the last dinner with King Mors before they were to meet back in Altissia for the talks of the alliance with Accordo. Regis walked slowly towards the dining hall, Clarus at point, Weskham at his side, and Cid standing at his back rambling on about something ‘important’ that the King wished to discuss before they set out. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Regis said, letting the boredom roll off him in a tangible wave.

“Hope ya was list’ning kid. Yer dad wanted me ta go over it fer a reason.” Cid spoke, closing the dossier he had been reading from with a snap of paper as they turned the final corner. 

Regis groaned as his eyes landed on one kid he had been hoping to avoid until at earliest tomorrow morning. “Cor.”

The young Crownsgaurd didn’t even look up as they approached, eyes straight ahead. Regis sighed, he should have expected nothing less. The kid was a machine, not actually a living being. 

When they approached the door, the boy opened the door wide, but instead of closing it behind them, he followed them in wordlessly. With Cid’s nagging, Regis expected his father to start a conversation concerning whatever protocol he had been putting in place to keep the Prince safe on his travels.

As the dinner’s courses were served, and no conversation was had, Regis was instead left to his own thoughts. Cor sat directly across the table from him, slowly eating. Regis was to his father’s right and the young boy was to his left. 

“Are you prepared for your journey tomorrow?” Mors spoke, his blue eyes drifting from the plate of half eaten food to the Prince. 

“We have made all requested preparations, your Highness.” Weskham spoke, leaving Regis staring at his father. 

“Cor Leonis has made all preparations to join you four, as well. I am trusting your life to him. He is under strict orders.” Mors looked back at his plate, closing the conversation that was barely open to begin with. 

So that was it. Cor was to be a lapdog to his father’s wishes, to make sure that Regis did exactly as he was supposed to. Find the Royal Arms and then meet in Altissia. Regis felt the anger at his father build, and as he was about to retort, Clarus’s hand came to his shoulder. 

Validus, who was standing just behind the King, shifted forward, eyes locked on the two boys. Clarus nodded to his own father, sitting back as if nothing had happened. 

“If you don’t mind, I am going to excuse myself.” Regis moved to stand, his food still only half touched. 

“As you wish. I will not be around to see you off in the morning. I will see you in Altissia in three months time.” Mors didn’t move or look up from his place as Regis exited the hall, Clarus a step behind. 

“It's gonna be alright, little prince.” Clarus spoke, moving close behind. 

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! The earlier years were so much fun (and easier to write). I feel like younger RegClar needs so love. 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	3. The Long Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regis crashes the car- Hammerhead gets it name, and Cor is a fire ball of feist. The road trip is going so great, until they begin encountering MT soldiers, and they find the hidden tombs of Yore. The armiger weapons find their place with Prince Regis and the Retinue realize how bad Eos is outside of the wall.

Regis lay on the ground, his eyes staring up at the clear blue sky. It wasn’t even noon yet and he had already crashed the car. 

“Is it regicide if I ask for one of you guys to kill me?” Regis groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the midafternoon sun. 

“Ain’t no one gonna kill ya, Regis.” Cid grumbled from underneath the hood of the regalia, hand wiping away a bead of sweat from his brow. The gravelly voice was the only noise in the ever expansive nothingness of Liede. 

Clarus was leaning against the Regalia, his eyes locked on one Cor Leonis as he crouched low at a tree, sparing with the inanimate object. He was angry, and the Shield could see that. It was the most un-put-together that any of them had ever seen Cor. 

“Perhaps someone should go ask the little dualhorn if he’s feeling better yet?” Weskham had appeared from a larger run down building on the fair end of the lot. In hand he was carrying a carafe of, what Regis could only guess, was tea. 

“Be my guest. If you’re lucky, he’ll stab you with that pointy sword of his.” Regis spoke, sitting up abruptly as he did, eyes wide with an idea. “On second thought, I’ll go ask him before Cid finds some way to murder me first!”

“Ya know my hearing is fine, right?” Cid shifted just enough to glance at the Prince, face covered in dirt, before going back to the repairs. “Damn kid needs ta learn ta drive.”

Regis tossed his hand in the air, getting up quickly and rushing to Cor’s side, not too close, but close enough to make a point that he was trying to get the young man’s attention. 

“You, uh, okay?” Regis asked, quirking his brow, and watching as, with one large swing, Cor felled the small tree. 

“Fine.” Cor grunted, tossing his sword and letting it disappear into the Armiger. It was strange, while both Regis and Mors had their own Armiger, it was a shared space of the same… for lack of better word: space. Regis was certain that if he searched hard enough, that odd looking katana could be found, as would anything else that his father had kept. 

“You know that is a talent, right?” Regis watched as Cor straightened, a line of sweat on the young boy's brow. 

“What?” Cor snapped, obviously the pent up energy still boiling. 

“You know, I was the one who crashed the car. Not you. Chill out.” Regis looked at the boy, straightening his posture as he took a step towards the road. 

“I’m going to go out for a walk.” Cor turned, but not before he grabbed the boy's wrist. 

“You will not!” Regis pulled him back, not letting him go. 

Cor rounded on the Prince, eyes burning with the rage and the fire underneath. “Let me go.” The words bit and Regis pulled away like he had touched a hot coal. 

“I order you as the Crowned Prince of Lucis, you will not run off into the wilds by yourself! I am not risking the life of a child on this mission.” This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted a boy of fifteen coming along with them. 

“As you wish, your Highness.” Cor grit his teeth and headed back towards the awning where Cid was finishing up his work on the Regalia. The words bit. 

Regis stood there, staring at where Cor had been, fists balling at his side. Regis hated that, being called ‘Highness’ even if that was essentially what he was. Those closest to him only rarely called him that, and as this was supposed to be a trip that they were taking as ‘friends’. Regis had hoped that they could put that on the back burner. He had issued an order, but he wasn’t going to run to Duscae and back for some underaged brat. 

A strong hand landed on Regis’s shoulder, causing the man to jump with a start. “Regis, it's me.” 

Turning, the Prince met eyes with his Shield, concern etched onto Claus's face. Regis let out a long sigh, forcing a smile back on his lips. “What’s up?” 

“Cid got the Regalia running again. Unless you want to hang around, we should get going or we’ll be out past dark” Clarus shifted back, letting his hand fall to his side. 

“Yeah.” Regis let out a sigh, unballing his hands as he shifted into Clarus. “You think we can ditch the runt in Lestallum without anyone noticing?” 

Clarus laughed, knowing that in a few days time, they would be headed that way and, in fact, the city was large enough to get lost in the endless mazes. “No. We’d have to ditch Cid too, and he is too clever to get seperated from us. Think we’re stuck with them both.” 

“Damn.” Regis let Clarus lead him back to the Regalia, where Cor was sitting in the driver's seat with a straight face on. 

“Uh.” Regis stopped, eyes moving from Clarus to Cid and finally stopping back at Cor. “Kid that’s my seat.” 

“You crashed her.” Cid spoke, closing the hood of the car with a metallic clank. “You ain’t driving her ‘til I deem you can.” 

The oily and blackened hammer was pushed into Regis’s hands, causing the Prince to grimace. “Be more careful an’ you won’t need that next time. I mean unless you need it for your dumb head.” 

Regis was left standing with his mouth agape as Cid climbed into the passenger seat. Clarus let out a laugh, as he opened the door, showing Weskham drinking his tea from a thermos now. “Get in, little prince.” 

With a grunt of complaint Regis slid in, followed quickly by Clarus. Once the door was shut, the ignition was turned and the Regalia pulled out of the rundown station they had spent the better part of an hour at. 

“You know,” Weskham said, eyes watching the stop fade into the distance. “That car on the roof? It kind of reminds me of a hammerhead shark.”

~~~~

“What are those things?” Regis whispered to Clarus as they stood behind a rock, hiding from what seemed to be an Imperial troop. 

“I dunno, ain’t seen soldiers like that before.” Clarus carefully peeked over the rock, watching the group of 20 or so gunmen walk past. They didn’t move like people, their joints stiff as they moved, their heads ever forward. 

“I’ve seen them before. When they destroyed my home.” Weskham’s fingers trembled around the saber, his eyes closing as if lost in some distant memory. 

Clarus’s hand went to the other man’s shoulder, pulling him back from the pain of the past. “We’ll get ‘em, but not if you’re lost. Gotta be here, kay Wesk?”

Regis flexed his fingers, summoning his own sword with a slight magical whoosh. “On your count?” 

It was Cor who acted first, before anyone else could react. The boy vaulted over the rock, long katana in hand as he decapitated the first soldier and moved to the next. As the helmet rolled to the side, the other boys hopped over, cursing under their breaths and joining the combat. 

It didn’t take long, the five boys being far more skilled than their enemies. Chest heaving, Regis moved to pick up one of the helmets, as it didn’t seem right. Inside there was nothing, no trace of a living creature inside except for some thick black dust. As his eyes moved from the helmet in hand to the battlefield, he noticed that all the armor was disintegrating too, turning into nothing more than black dust. 

“Guys. You see this?” Regis shook his head, and as he was about to pass off the helmet, it too started to deteriorate as if it was connected to the life force that it had held captive just moments before. 

In shock, Regis was left staring at his hand, the faint black dust covering it. “What in the world is going on?”

“I told you I’ve seen this before right?” Weskham had banished his sword to the Armiger, running his hands down his outfit as he moved back towards the rock he had been hiding behind previously. He sat down, and shook his head. 

“The Imperials call them ‘Magitek’ or ‘MT’ for short. They are a new hybrid of magical machinery and human. Needless to say,” Weskham gestured towards the place they had battled in previously. “That is the reason why Nifflheim is pressing in so forcefully. They are not losing soldiers with faces any more.

“I tried telling the King all of this, and he refused to listen.” Weskham looked towards Regis. “I hope you will listen to me.” 

The other boys had followed Weskham, listening to his words with intense curiosity. Now Regis was forced to look away, the images of what had just happened all to clear. “Of course I will listen, Wesk, but what am I supposed to do?” 

“You will be King. Sooner than you should. You can act then.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Regis looked back at the dark skinned man before him. He looked into deep, soft brown eyes. There was sorrow in them, something he often found when looking at Weskham. 

“I wanted you to believe me before I spoke of fantastical things.”

~~~~

It had been a hard decision, one that was not made lightly, but early the next morning, once just enough light was present to determine that whatever daemon presence there could be was no threat, they headed out from the motel. They decided that it would be best to move quickly, using the intel from Weskham to make a crude map of the land. After all, the past decade had turned the once rich and prosperous lands into ruin. 

Keycatrich was nothing like what it had been when Weskham grew up there, and many of the people had fled elsewhere or had died trying. They were solidly in Imperial territory now, and as the royal retinue, that was dangerous. 

_ “My parents spoke of a mine deep in the hill side where the Royal Family once came freely, to and fro. I believe we can find one of these royal tombs within.” _

As much as Weskham was pained at the return to his home, he would follow Regis anywhere. They moved through the ravaged land, Weskham looking longingly at the earth and rubble as if the places they stood were something else, somewhere else. 

Regis had to continue to push on, not understanding nor having the ability to pause too long, lest they be found out.

“Where to, Wesk?” The words were rushed, Cid finally catching up as he made sure they were not being followed. They paused for a moment, crouched near a sillo. It was still relatively dark out, and while they were between a crudely built wooden fence and a wall, they would be caught if the wrong people rounded the corner on them.

“Up this road a ways, there's a tight natural corridor. There’ll be a break in to the left, and through it a high walled passage.” Weskham gestured forward, and they continued through. Just as he spoke, the well worn path led them up where ruins of an old stone gate rested, mostly covered by dust and debris. 

Weskham stopped, placing his hand on what remained of the white pillar. His gloved fingers trembled as he took in a deep breath. “This was the grand archway to the beginning of Keycatrich. I remember running through here with my friends-”

Clarus approached, hand hovering over the other man, on the edge of comforting him. However, Weskham cut off, clearing his throat and moving the same hand to the single monocle. “Let us continue.” 

“Are you sure, Weskham?” Cid spoke, gravely voice cutting through the sadness filling the air. “We can take a minute if ya need.” 

“I am fine.” Weskham took a step away from the stone, posture straight as he directed them up the pathway, however, instead of going towards the left, they continued forward. Cor started ahead of everyone else, posture low to the ground as his katana nearly brushed the gravel beneath. 

“Anyone else realize that that sword, Cor’s ‘Genji Blade’ is bigger than he is?” Regis tried to joke, the words falling dead as no one responded in turn. 

“It is reckless of him to take point like he is. What’s his problem?” Clarus sped up slightly, putting himself in front of both Weskham and Regis. “Keep the Prince flanked, I am going to tell that kid to slow down.”

Clarus moved, the large ram-dao styled curved blade held in front of him on the offensive. Just as he caught up to him, they passed under a tall arch, the sounds of some wild creatures overhead. Quickly, they pressed on. 

As they breached the clearing, it was clear that the area before them had been under construction, but parts of it were obviously habitation that had been destroyed. Concrete shards were scattered everywhere, and Regis simply stood, staring at the wreckage. People’s housing, their lives, scattered everywhere about this clearing. 

“Weskham.” Regis shook his head, tearing his eyes away from what was an apartment complex and to his advisor, his friend, his lover. “What is this place? Did you live here?”

“I wanted you to see this. As future King. This was-” Weskham turned, moving away from the scene towards the far end of the clearing. It was obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it, yet. Even Cor had stopped in observation of the man. It wasn’t until the others caught up with him that the youngest of Crownsguard started moving again. 

They were silent the entire time, moving through the entrance of the mines, bypassing the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign. The mines were quiet, and yet, there was a glowing light overhead from lanterns used long ago, as if someone had left the power running. 

The further into the mines they got, the less developed it became, the thick silence made every drip and scrape of metal echo throughout the whole emptiness. 

It was like walking around a ghost town; empty bunks, lone showers. The loss of life was tangible, and they were simply observers trying to move through the pain of the past. 

Regis had to stop, tears burning at the edges of his eyes. “What is this, Weskham?”

It wasn’t often that th e Prince used the advisor's name instead of the pet name. It stopped everyone in their tracks. Weskham turned, his face a stone mask. “This is where people died, Regis. This is something I needed you to see. All of this.”    
  
Obviously it was at some detriment to himself as the advisor seemed more shaken than he had ever before. Regis shook his head, taking a step backwards. “This is horrible. Let’s get out of here.”    
  
It was obvious that Weskham had more to say, but the words were stuck. The normally eloquent man, lost for words. As they left the mines, Regis felt the weight of everything coming down on him, more so than he had before. 

What was the point of all of this?

The sun was now fully in the sky, mid morning pressing on quickly to the afternoon as they exited the repression of the mines. They moved back, quickly and without speaking to the original fork in the road. They held right, and quickly made it up the much narrower corridor until it opened up into a large clearing. 

They continued up, as even the path here had been uphill. At the top of the incline was a dome shaped building. It looked old, as if it was crafted from fine stones. The light hit it, causing everyone to focus on it. The natural walls that surrounded them almost made a complete circle. This was purposeful; it was meant to feel overwhelming. Regis just wasn't sure how much more he could take. 

Regis came to the lead, Weskham and Cor hanging back as they started to chat, too quiet for anyone else to hear. Regis let it go, uncertain what someone like him could offer the man. Cor was an unknown entity to him. If he could help Weskham, that was a good thing. 

Regis with Clarus and Cid behind him approached the large stone doors, staring up at the large awning. The stone was hand carved, details of the life of the king entombed within. The Wise. The Sword of the Wise was inside. Regis grabbed for the handle, pulling with a frown as the door did not give way to his touch. 

“I got it kid.” Cid pulled out a key from his pocket, fitting it into the lock. The door swung inward to reveal the tomb. 

Regis stared inside, the events of the day cascading and culminating. He wasn’t ready. He felt like he was being crushed. There was no reason for any of this. All the death, destruction. All for what? What did Niflheim want? 

Regis was trembling when Clarus placed his hand on his shoulder. “It's fine. Go on. It's your destiny. We’re right here.” 

It wasn’t exactly what he had been wanting to hear, but he nodded, taking the step into the building.

The tomb was cold. The walls were lined with the same statue, repeated over and over in the alcoves surrounding the room; an armored man standing with a sword stuck into the ground. This same statue was in Insomnia as part of the old wall, and Regis knew it well. These life sized statues felt like an honor guard, the real prize sitting at the center of the room.

In the center of the circular room sat a sarcophagus. This was where the King was buried, in the same manner as all the Kings and Queens of old. It was Regis’s duty as Prince to search out these tombs and wield their weapons. It was his bloodline. But for what reason? 

Regis stepped forward, feeling four sets of eyes on him as he approached the sarcophagus. His hand hovered over the blade that was grasped in the stone embrace of the King. It felt wrong, it felt strange. 

Regis’s fingers brushed the blade. In that moment, a blue vestige of the blade appeared from the original, soul crystals sparkling about it as it rose in the air. It tilted, pointing at him. Regis caught his breath as the blade propelled itself towards him and stabbed him in the chest. 

Regis had never felt pain like that before, his entire chest feeling, in that one second, as if he had in fact been stabbed through. Clarus was at his side, calling his name. At first, through the pain, he could only hear it as if he was calling through water. And then, it became clearer. 

“Regis! You okay? Regis!” 

“Yeah. I think I will be.” The gods were cruel. That much Regis now knew.

~~~~

At the far north of their journey, up a winding road, was Meldacio. They left as the sun kissed the horizon after spending the night in Lestallum.. They were finally out of the mostly dry lands of Liede and Duscae, and the rainfall was thicker here, creating a much more enjoyable view on their long journey, though it also meant driving with the hood up.

The fabled hunters headquarters was underneath a canopy of rock, giving it a pleasant, cool feeling, as if it was protected from all the elements. Regis had been curious about this place, and it was far into the lands of Lucis that had been lost to the Empire. 

There was a woman sitting upon a chair, rocking back and forth. Her eyes watched the Regalia as Cor parked it in one of the spaces across from the market stall. There was a young teen, no older than Cor, who she was deep in conversation with. 

As everyone climbed from the car, The woman approached. There was a faint smile on her lips. “You must by Regis. I had a feeling you would be making your way up here. My name is Ezma and this is my son, Dave.” 

Dave cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the group to him. His hand nervously adjusted the dog tags he wore around his neck. “That the Prince?” 

“Yes.” Her hand moved to his shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“How do you know who I am?” Regis questioned. So far on their travels, no one had been able to tell who he was. They weren’t hiding it, but in enemy territory, it was nice to not have the knowledge of his presence known. 

“Well, your Highness, you are driving a Royal Vehicle, dressed in all black, and you are accompanied by not one or two bodyguards, but four. You do not travel to stay hidden. You travel to be made known. Perhaps that is the way. Please, follow me.” 

Ezma turned on her heel, directing them not towards the place she had been earlier, but turning towards an area where a couple of tables sat. Regis looked nervously between his retainers before they nodded and followed. 

“Sit, Highness. I will have Maggie cook you up something. You must have been on the road for a long time, and I can’t imagine the food has been kind.” 

“Actually,” Weskham cleared his throat, taking offense to the words. He had sat down first and straightened his monocle once more. “I am a fine chief. It has been an interesting challenge learning to cook with local ingredients, but I assure you, His Highness has been eating more or less like a King.” 

Ezma laughed, just as the woman Maggie came up to them. Ezma requested that a meal be brought out for each of them before she too sat at the table across from them. “Well, this is good homemade cooking, either way.” 

There was a silence that settled as Ezma looked over every one of them for a moment, looking for something that they themselves could not. Finally, her powder blue eyes landed on Regis’s sharp and vibrant blues. “So, you are up here because of the disturbances at the Vesperpool? The Imperial army is making quite a scene.” 

“That is the intention.” Regis spoke, feeling the mild tension from everyone else as they tried to figure her out. It was strange being spoken to so frankly, and it was putting them all on edge. “May I ask who you are?”

Ezma laughed, shifting back in her seat. “Oh, me? I am the leader of the Hunters.”

The words were surprising, as she didn’t look like she could take out a monster, nonetheless a daemon. The silence was quickly filled with a laugh as she sensed their hestitance and disbelief. 

“Trust me, boys. I can fend for myself. Fighting is more than just size, as I am sure you might have noticed.” She looked down to Cor, who straightened his already very straight posture. “Anyway. I wanted to ask you a favor. I need someone who I can trust to take on this task.” 

Regis looked to his Shield, who was wearing a rather neutral expression. “Okay?”

Ezma pulled out a key from somewhere on her person, a large golden key. Dave seemed to be transfixed on the object, as if it was something that only came out on special occasions. “There are eight extremely dangerous beasts contained all over Lucis. This key can be used to open and enter the tombs.”

“Okay? Sounds like something that’s better locked up, don’t cha think?”

“That’s the thing. The seals holding the doors shut and the monsters inside, its old and will eventually break. I don’t trust this task to anyone. I do not send my hunters to their deaths.” Ezma placed the key gently onto the table, but still out of reach of everyone. 

“Why me?” Regis asked, feeling like this was just another thing on the list of his responsibilities.    
  


“I have a certain power, young Prince. I can tell a person's abilities from looking at them. Call it a family trait.” Ezma shifted, placing her hand gently on the small of Dave’s back. “I can see it in you, young Prince. And I hope you will help me take these beasts out.”

Regis felt all eyes on him. Cor looked as if he would jump for the opportunity without a second chance, but the boy would get himself killed, surely. Cid seemed entirely opposed to the idea, but the man wasn’t much more than a glorified mechanic. Weskham sat with a straight face, however, the edges of his sharp demeanor were softened. It was as good a ‘go’ as anything from the man. Clarus shifted stiffly next to Regis, and the Prince could tell what he was feeling before he even looked at him. 

“Once Niflheim falls, we will come to you for that key. Right now,” With all the other responsibilities that were placed on him, “Our duty is freeing our lands, ridding the world of the Empire and creating peace and prosperity.”

Ezma hummed for a moment, her fingers wrapping around the key. “I will take you up on that.” The key vanished back from wherever it had come. 

~~~~   
  


One hundred and five days later, the Regalia pulled into the parking spot at Cape Caem. During that time, they had taken out six hundred and fifteen soldiers, and the front line forces seemed to be increasing by the day. 

While their military prospects felt lost, the friendship between the five men grew. Regis didn’t feel like Cid was an overbearing father figure as much, Cor wasn’t that bad for a fifteen year old kid, and well, Clarus and Weskham were still there for him as they always had been. 

Regis leaned against the railing at the base of the lighthouse, staring off into the water beyond. Tomorrow they were headed to Accordo, right on schedule. He was heading the alliance resigning, and it would solidify their actions against the Empire once and for all. It would also keep the trade with Altissia and all of Accordo strong, which Insomnia needed now more than ever with the growing loss of land. 

“Hey.” Clarus had come up the steep incline to stand next to Regis, and Regis hadn’t even noticed. He was lost in his thoughts. 

“You know, if you keep stressing, you’re going to go gray before you even tie the knot.” Clarus laughed, leaning his back against the same railing. 

“Yeah, but I think it's normal. All these people depend on me to fix it. Make it better. I don’t know if I can.” Regis shook his head. 

“You know, I think that it will be okay. Really. I will be here for you.” Clarus, while he was looking up the lighthouse, was paying attention only to his prince.    
  
“I don’t think I can do it. I mean. I will, but I don’t think I can.” Regis laughed, turning around and pressing his body into Clarus’s. With no prying eyes, they could be frank with each other, touch like they wanted, be themselves. Once they got on the Royal Vessel and made their way to Accordo, it would be business again. It had been nice, being away from the council and all those who judged him. 

“I know you have it in you, little prince.” Clarus chuckled as he was shoved by Regis. 

“Y’all.” Cid had just rounded the corner, not batting an eyelash at the two flirting. “Think we can grab a snap for memories, ya know?” 

In Cid’s hand there was a camera. It wasn’t a newer model, but it would do the trick. “Cor’s standing by the Regalia. Got ‘er set up for the perfect shot. If y’all want.”

Regis smiled, knowing that he should agree. “Yeah. Why not.” 

With a sigh and a stretch, Regis followed Cid back down and around the lighthouse. 

Cor stood to the front of the Regalia, hands folded behind his back. Regis laughed, playfully elbowing the kid who grumbled and rolled his eyes. However, there was a playful hint of a smile at the edges of his lips. 

“Here,” Weskham passed off a single tin cup to Regis. It was warm, and no doubt more of the man’s famous tea brew. “For good luck.” 

Regis laughed, grabbing the cup as he rolled his eyes. “You got some strange superstitions, Wesk.” 

“Here,” Clarus grabbed the camera from him, fiddling with some of the features on it. “I’ll take it.” 

“You sure?” Cid’s gravely voice questioned as he took a few steps. 

“Positive.” Clarus smiled, happily getting everyone in frame. “Alright, ready?” 

“As we’ll ever be!” Regis smirked, pulling the cup up, eyes looking off in the direction of Weskham. These were his brothers. His friends. No matter what happened, they would always be there for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed this chapter as there is so much character development that I got to play with that we never get in the game. I love playing with 'un-tempered' Cor. There is so much potential with this group that I would love to play around with more when I have the time. 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	4. Accordo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the main reasons why Regis had been sent into Eos was to gain a treaty with Accordo. However, Niflheim is on their tails. Just the one step ahead of them
> 
> The Great War and the collapse of Lucis's ability to create an alliance with the independent nation all fall in the same stroke. The battle that is to come results in a great tragedy unknown to the spoiled Prince of Lucis.

Regis and company sat in one of the many bars surrounding Altissia. King Mors was set to arrive tomorrow morning and the peace talk would begin at that point. 

Regis grumbled into a large stein, wishing that it was easier to drink away his problems than face them head on. It had been a long couple months, and Regis was tired and confused. 

“Come on kid, can’t be that bad. What’s the worst that can happen?” Clarus slapped Regis on the back, a little rougher than the Shield had expected to. Regis coughed and sputtered, the Altissian Ale going down the wrong pipe. 

“Well, everything could end up on fire and the peace talk could break down?” Cor offered, ever the optimist. He stared at his glass of water, a small frown creasing his young face. The boy had tried to grab himself a ‘proper’ drink and been promptly turned down by all of the older men and the barkeep. 

Regis took in a sharp breath, the coughing subsiding long enough to try and respond even if he wasn’t sure exactly how to. “I don't think it’ll go that bad.” 

“Excuse me?” A nicely dressed woman had waded through the crowded bar. It was intentional, and she didn’t look to be one of the wait staff. She was flanked by two young men and it was surprising that her approach didn’t cause more of a scene. “Do you think you could offer me a moment of your time? Prince Regis.” 

There was a ringing that filled Regis’s ears as if he hadn’t fully understood what the woman was saying. This was the second time on their trip that someone had been able to identify Regis simply based on, hell, factors that Regis knew not himself. Were they that obvious?

“Who‘re you?” Cid stood from their booth, looking down at the woman. She was roughly the same age as most of them, spare Cid. The likelihood that she was someone of note was low, but at this point, only time would tell. 

“The name is Camelia Claustra and I am the leader of the anti-establishment movement. I want to speak with Prince Regis and his retainers. I had heard that you were coming here to re-establish the treaty from over one hundred fifty years ago?” Camelia wore no smile, no change in her flat expression. She simply looked from Cid to Regis. 

“What do you say?” 

Regis looked around the table, all eyes on him. That was the norm. “I see no harm in a friendly chat.”

“Fantastic.” Camelia gestured for one of the men who had been standing back to bring her a chair. As if by magic, he had obtained a chair, when the entire bar was completely packed. 

“Tomorrow is the peace talk where Lucis will attempt to break through the Niflheim control to re-establish our alliance, correct?” 

“Yes. How do you know about that? This meeting is supposed to be a secret.” Regis looked panicked from Camelia to Weskham. The information was not new, but it sparked something and Regis needed to act. “I need to try and get a hold of my father.” 

“I believe the Empire may try to intercept whatever plans you and your father have.” 

Regis stood, his head spinning as he moved from the busy room. He could feel Clarus on his back as he fumbled for his phone in his pocket, the whole room spinning. He dialed a number that he rarely used, if ever. Mors did not like technology and only submitted to it as useful for rapid communication. It was unlikely the man even had his phone on him.

The outside air was bitter cold as Regis held the phone to his ear. The shock of it almost threw him off his feet. It felt nice as he pressed his back against the building, listening to his phone ring. 

“Come on dad. Pick up.” Regis murmerd under his breath. It felt like a lifetime that Regis waited for the phone to stop ringing and to hear his father's voice. Clarus’s eyes were for Regis only as he held his breath. 

_ “Yes, Regis?” _

The words were bitter, and sounded like they should have been full of malice. Regis was relieved that his father had actually picked up the line. 

“Turn around. Go home. It’s a trap.” Regis said hurriedly into the phone. He didn’t care if it irritated his father, or he ended up in Royal Hot Water. Even as the Prince, he needed to keep the King Safe. Regis’s only hope was that Mors would stay safe inside the walls where the Empire couldn’t get to him. 

“I can take care of the peace talks. I know what to do.” The silence drug on, and Regis wondered if his father had hung up on him. 

Finally, Mors spoke, his voice crystal clear in the silent night. “Fine, Regis. I am counting on you.” 

The line went dead, and for a moment, Regis listened to the nothingness, letting out a long breath. 

“He’s gonna listen?” Clarus asked, his light blue eyes pleading, hoping that the prince had been able to make his case in the few words he spoke. While it was one thing that Regis’s dad was the King, Clarus too had his father’s life on the line. 

“Yeah. They’re going home. Let’s just hope that whatever happens tomorrow we can handle.” Regis stood up straight, looking at the man before him. He was more than his Shield, he was more than his confidant. There was something there that he couldn’t explain, but it made him stronger. 

They returned to the bar, finding Weskham and Camelia deep in conversation with each other. Cor seemed to be hanging off every breath of the older two. Regis was surprised at the friendliness between his advisor and this Camelia woman. 

“King Mors is returning to Insomnia.” Regis spoke to the group, making sure his tone would not pass beyond their table as he and Clarus settled back into their seats. 

“That will leave you to head the summit as Insomnia’s voice?” Camilia peeled her eyes from Weskham to stare at Regis. 

“Yes.” Regis spoke, straightening his posture. “And if it is a battle the Niffs want, it's a battle they will get.”

~~~~

Regis left shortly after. Weskham seemed to find a kinship in the woman and stayed to continue the conversation and find a way. There had to be a way to get the anti-establishment movement’s help in the battle that would surely take place tomorrow. 

As they were discussing their plan, Cid received a new briefing from the Crown City, informing them that a large force of troops was headed to back them up. If and when conflict were to arise, they would have support. 

“Don’ know what good a bunch ‘a troops’ll be if the Niffs bring all them new high tech warriors into the field.” Cid groaned, tossing his tablet into the bed. 

“We have to try, though!” Regis was frustrated. How could they have known? Perhaps they had been watched through their travels to the point that it was an inevitable conclusion. “Shit! We have to get this alliance back, because if we don’t we are really in a bad way. We need supplies, and our economy- It's been in the toilet for the past 150 years!” 

“You have to be prepared for a battle.” Clarus was staring out the window of their hotel room, eyes focused on the rocking of the waves that shook the ground they were on ever so slightly. “We’ll be ready. Just knowing is half of it.” 

~~~~

Regis sat in a large room, listening to some fifth secretary of state babble on about the long history of Accordo-Lucis alignment that had fallen to the wayside some one hundred fifty years ago. Regis had read the history books, he knew what had happened. Niflheim had come between them, and while they hadn’t formed negative stances on each other, they were currently sitting in a neutral place. 

“We seek to reconnect an alliance and remove the Niflheim grasp on our communities. Accordo has always acted as an independent state from both Niflheim and Lucis.” 

Regis forced himself to listen, although in his heart, he felt that something was very wrong. There was one of the secretaries that seemed exceedingly nervous. Regis nudged Clarus, who seemed to be staring out one of the large windows in the dome shaped room. His eyes pulled forward, and Regis directed his attention to, he wanted to say the man’s name was Acacius?    
  
“We have already agreed to these terms, as per the communications King Mors and Prince Regis have stated.” Weskham spoke, gesturing to Regis as the Prince nodded. 

“We have drafted these conditions for your review.” One of the older ladies, which was an impressive feat considering they were all in their 70s, pulled out a large book. With a heavy  _ thunk  _ the book was placed at the center of the room on a solid marble table, in front of the thirty politicians and body guards present. 

It felt like the lines on the page would take forever to read, hours making sure that all the agreement they had discussed was included. It was. Regis pulled his pen from the Armiger, happy to finally have this over with, and his father proud. The scratching on the pen was clear, echoing through the whole chamber. 

In the same moment the pen vanished from his fingers, an explosion rocked the foundation of the building. The politicians screamed, and Regis glanced behind him to meet Camelia’s stern expression. He nodded at her, and in that moment she began to evacuate the building.    
  
“We don’t have much time!” Clarus called, everything shaking once more as the ground around them cracked. 

The ceiling began to crumble as Regis grabbed the tome that they had just been working on, stashing it in the Armiger. The building continued to crumble, another projectile colliding with the side of the summit hall. 

Perhaps it was because of Camelia’s planning, or perhaps it was luck. Maybe, the location of the summit was placed far away from civilization on purpose so when an invading army attacked, there would be no loss of life. Camelia had said that the citizens of Accordo were her first and only concern. What happened to the Prince and his retainers was of no importance.

Regis felt Clarus’s hand on him as he pushed forward, easing him on through the building as quickly as their legs could follow. “Warp!” 

The words came to his ears as he materialized his weapon in hand.  _ Thwish _ . Regis felt dizzy, the fresh air smacking him in the face.  _ Crash _ . The building crumbled in a giant heap. 

Regis spun around, eyes searching for Clarus. Heart thudding, Regis sighed. Clarus had barely made it out. The roar of machinery forced Regis to shift. Before him, the Niflheim Empire had come prepared. The enemy forces faced them like a wave over the hill.    
  
The feeling overwhelmed Regis. He grasped at his chest. Breathing coming up short, he stepped backwards into Clarus's broad chest.

“Highness.” Clarus’s voice was calm. Steady. He placed a hand firmly on Regis’s back. “We’re ready.”

Regis whipped his head behind him. Over the rubble of where they had just been, the troops that Mors had promised stood at the ready. Maybe a fifth of what the enemy had.    
  
“Don’t die. That’s an order.” Regis looked from Clarus, to his other retainers. The other politicians were currently fleeing back towards the boats that would bring them to safety. After all, the Empire was here for them, not Accordo. 

“Yes, your Highness.” Clarus spoke, and the others mimicked him.    
  
Regis gripped his sword in hand, feeling out of place in his royal clothing as they watched the enemies draw nearer. 

One of the larger Magitek machines shot off another explosive round, the ground shuddering with the empact.    
  
“For our King! For Lucis!” Regis raised his sword. He counted in his head. Three. Two.

“Charge!” It was a sucide mission, Regis knew this, even as he prepared to send most of these men to their death. 

Regis warped. Sword colliding. Zipping around the battle.  _ Clink _ . Regis, slid under one of the large machines. Chaos to every side. 

“Clarus!” Regis called. Warping, he gripped the top of the machine. He stabbed. The automaton shook. Left. Right. It was trying to dislodge him. 

Clarus appeared. He sliced at the ankles of the mech. It lost balance, and fell. Regis shifted, slicing downward once more. He warped away, the machine exploding and taking more of the enemy troops with it.

“We’re losing!” Weskham spoke, the sounds of battle drowning out most everything else. 

Cor swiped furiously, keeping a wide circle around them. There was a rage there, a rage that was only present when he was in the midst of battle. Regis frantically looked at his retainers, the circle closing in around them.    
  
“Retreat.” Regis spoke quietly at first, his sword in front of him as they pressed in closer. 

“Retreat!” Regis screamed, the few men left turned and began fighting their way back, away from the Empire’s forces. 

“Regis!” Weskham called out, collapsed on the ground twenty paces back. 

Regis’s eyes went wide, as he felt his heart stop. 

“Clarus!” Regis called out mid warp, determined to make it to his friend’s side. It took two warps, and the enemy was too close now. 

There was lightning and fire in his veins. A wave of magic leapt from his fingertips, forcing the oncoming soldiers back. 

“Can you stand?” Regis looked down at Weskham’s side, seeing his hand pressed to his bloodstained shirt.

“Yes.” Weskham was lifted from one shoulder by Clarus as Regis supported the other shoulder. 

“You can’t die, Wesk.” Tears burned at the corners of his eyes as he tried with all his might to concentrate. 

The royal vessel was in sight. They just had to make it there. 

The ground wracked once more with an explosion. Regis pushed on faster, his own heart beat a dead echo to the quickness of his step. 

“I got him.” Regis said, seconds before warping onto the deck, laying Weskham down on his back. 

“He’s losing too much blood!”

The boat kicked on, the soft purr of the engine shifting the boat as they took off.    
  


“Grab a potion. Medic. Something!” The tears were streaming faster, and Regis forced the liquid down. Weskham was unconscious, and hopefully they could get to someone in time.

“I can’t lose him. Clarus. I can’t lose him!”

~~~~

Weskham woke up just as they reached Altissia, Cid driving while Cor stood over Regis. There was no immediate sign that the Empire was following, but they couldn’t stay put, not with that large force possibly on their tail. 

“I can take him and make sure he gets proper care.” Camelia had made it to Altissia long before they had, having withdrawn her troops to help evacuate the politicians of Accordo. 

Regis wiped the tears from his eyes, Weskham being gurnied off the Royal Vessel. “You take care of him. Please.” 

“Of course.” Camelia turned to leave when Regis remembered. 

“Oh.” Regis pulled the book from the Armiger, the large heft of it feeling foreign in his hands. “I saved this from the wreckage. I think you might want it.”   
  


“We have to go.” Cor said, coming up behind Regis as he urged him back onto the boat. 

“Just one minute.” Regis snapped, watching as two men took his Weskham away from him. 

“No. We go now. We have to make it back to Insomnia as quickly as possible.” Cor grabbed Regis’s arm, pulling him back, just enough that Cid could pull away. 

“Stop!” Regis called, arms reaching out towards the quickly disappearing dock. Clarus grabbed Regis then, holding him tightly to his chest. 

“We can’t risk you staying, Regis. This is war. You are our future.” Clarus’s arms trembled, obviously able to make the difficult decision that Regis couldn’t. “Weskham will be fine. We’ll see him again as soon as he is better.”

“I hope you're right.” Regis couldn’t cry, he shouldn’t. Yet, as he fought weakly against the strong arms of his Shield, he cried. He was losing everything and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, the feels start to roll in. I am really upset with how little time I got to play with Weskham! He is so much fun and in future fictions, I will have to bring him in! Oh, my tender heart. 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments. Thank you so much for reading!


	5. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy is following Prince Regis everywhere. He's already lost one of his closest friends, and what will come will push him to the point of breaking. One blow after another. Can the retinue that remains find the silver lining amidst the war following them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The end of this chapter has a NSFW picture. There is smut described in detail. If that is not your thing, PLEASE skip the last section of this chapter. Thank you!

“You’re a moron!” Cor exclaimed as they walked down towards where the Regalia was parked. Hopefully the Royal Vessel hadn’t been tracked to Cape Caem and they would be able to fight their way back to Insomnia. That was the hope. 

“What was that?” Regis stood taller, the emotions of the day cascading down like a waterfall. He wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. 

“I gots ta agree with the pipsqueak.” Cid crossed his arms, head shaking and lips pursed. 

“What is wrong with you both?” Regis stopped, feeling Clarus nearly bump into him. “Do you not realize what happened today? We lost. We lost badly!”

“Yeah. That’s where I’m coming from. Highness.” The title was used as a curse, a derogatory term from the kid’s lips. “You fucked up.” 

Regis blinked, feeling the rage build up in his chest as he stepped closer to Cor. “Say that again?”

“You. Fucked. Up.” Cor puffed up his chest, coming up unwaveringly to meet Regis. “How many men died because you were a fool? You had hours to prepare, go in with a better game plan. You froze. Because you froze, people died. People who didn’t need to!” 

Cor was yelling, each word a stab in the chest. Regis faltered back, feeling the words too much. They were right. “You don’t think I don’t know that? Everything- everything that happened today is my fault. I’ve lost, and I can’t-”

There was a fire in Cor’s eyes, like a lion on the hunt. He was fierce, and he knew what he was talking about. Perhaps Regis had discounted the boy too much. How could someone so young know more than he did with all his years of training? Regis had failed, and this would be a scar he carried for the rest of his life. 

“You’re right.” Regis shook his head. “I failed.”

Cid had already made it to the car, looking at the horizon. “We got a couple hours ‘a sun left. We gotta get movin’ or them daemons gonna get us. Let’s put some distance ‘tween us an’ the Empire. You two can fight more once we got us a bed ta sleep in.”

There was no arguing with that logic, and reluctantly Cor climbed into the driver's seat, his temper still rolling off him in a tangible wave. Regis paused as he slid into the backseat, sitting in the center like he had for months. 

As Clarus moved in beside him, Regis realized that without Weskham, the back seat was way more spacious than before. Regis chose to not scoot over, unable to get himself to sit in Weskham’s spot. He just couldn’t. 

~~~~

Continually they were overrun by soldiers. New blockades had been erected since they had last been through many of the areas of Lucis. Multiple times they were forced to turn around and attempt yet another route back to Insomnia. Today, it made for four different route changes. 

“We might have to take the rest of it by foot.” Clarus grumbled, watching the Imperial dropships fade into the distance. 

“If we do that, we aren’t going to make it back home. We have ta stay in the Regalia.” Cid shifted, looking in the rearview just as Cor skidded to a stop. 

“Look there.” Cor pointed to the side of the road, a large group of people was being chased down by a larger group of Imperial Soldiers. They looked like refugees. 

“We have to help them.” Regis was climbing out of the car, his retainers following. He was moving, stumbling down the hill. Into the fire.    
  
A large explosion cracked the ground, and they were surrounded by troops as several drop ships lowered down around them, appearing out of the crags to either side. 

“We can turn back.” Clarus had already started moving backpedalling. “We need to get you back home.” 

Regis shook his head. He wasn’t going to leave them alone. He just couldn't. Cor was still mad at him for his actions at Accordo, and Regis didn’t blame him. “We fight.” 

Regis pulled at the fire in his veins, rushing head first into battle. He let all of Ifrit’s rage out from inside him, the fires licking at the men before him in a wide arch. “We need to get to them. Those refugees.”

They fought, swords colliding, Empire troops falling as they carved their way through the dusty fields. Then, another crack tore through the air, an explosive projectile headed for them from one of the enemy drop ships. It bit into the land between where they were and where the refugees had been. 

Regis warped, feeling the other’s at his back. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - fail his subjects again. He was warping, moving, as quickly as he could. No one was moving, most not even recognizable any longer. The Empire wasn’t fooling around. This was straight genocide.

Regis came to the edge of the crater, one singular man bleeding from a head wound, still in one piece, as Regis pulled a potion from the Armiger. “Be okay. You'll be okay.”

Tears streamed down his face as the potion went down smoothly, the man choking and the bleeding stopping enough that it would clot on his own. 

“We need to get out of here. Now.” Clarus grabbed the man by one shoulder, Cid the other. They moved back towards the vehicle through the horde of enemies. 

~~~~

Lestallum was quiet. Only the soft humming of the machinery from the power plant echoed through the alleys and walkways. Regis sat at the end of the stranger’s bed, his face in his hands. Was this what would define his reign when he took over? One disaster after another?

“Where am I?” There was a gruff voice from on the bed, and both Regis and Clarus jumped from the spot in the room to rush to the stranger’s side. 

“You’re alive!” Regis gasped, though obviously they wouldn't have dragged a corpse all the way back to Lestallum. 

“Where is-” The rough faced boy shifted, wincing under several gauze pads over wounds on his face and eyes widening with terror. He was slightly younger than Regis was, but not as young as Cor. 

“No one else made it.” Regis spoke solemnly, letting his head fall as a piercing pain struck his chest. 

The young man fell back into the bed, eyes fixing on the ceiling. He seemed to understand completely, but refused to let the grief overcome him. 

“What’s your name?” Clarus sat on the edge of the bed, staring intently at the man.   
  
“Titus... Drautos.” The words felt like they were just left hanging, no feeling or emotions attached to them. 

“Titus. I’m Clarus Amicitia, and this is Prince Regis Lucis Caelum. We saved your life.” 

Regis stepped away, unable to hear the words his Shield spoke. They had saved his life, but they hadn’t been able to save his friends or his family. 

“What do you want with me?” Titus spoke, words bitter and like a blade to Regis’s heart. 

“To take you back with us. We tried what we could.” Regis turned, seeing the man sitting back up in the bed, glaring at him. 

“Well, I’m sorry, your Highness if it doesn’t seem that way to me and-” Titus cut off, grasping at a wound on his side. The man was hurt, and not just physically. He was hurting on an emotional level too. Regis wished he knew, could understand, but he couldn’t. 

“I am sorry. I will make it up to you however I can.” Regis bowed his head, knowing that this man had been a fighter. He’d seen it, and he had taken up Titus’s weapon in their retreat.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Cor let himself in. “Cid wants to talk with you.” 

Clarus nodded, letting the young Crownsguard take him off to the next room over. They entered the room, seeing Cid standing on the balcony, staring out at the city. 

“I’m not leavin’ with ya in the morn.” Cid spoke without turning around to meet Regis’s gaze. “I’m gonna stay here with Mid and Melba. They’re gonna get married. Need ta see me son off, Regis.” 

Cid turned around, facing the stunned Regis full on, unwavering in his next step towards him. “Ain’t happy with the Crown. Ain’t happy with your leadership.” 

The words hit Regis like an arrow, and he staggered backwards, shaking his head. “Cid, I have done everything for you and your friendship.” 

“No. Ya let them people die in Accordo, you and your pa. You brought the wall back, and refused ta let refugees in. My Mid and his Melba, denied at the gates of Insomnia. I ain’t going back ta a King who don’t care.” 

“Cid, I care.” Regis stepped forward, the nightmare wrapping around him like a coffin. 

“You ain’t the King. You ain’t the one in control. I gotta be here with my son.” Cid’s fingers balled at his side, an obvious rage boiling under the surface. 

“I will be King. Soon. My dad is sick.” The words were surprising, and even Regis looked mortified. 

“You won’t change.” Cid moved up to Regis, shaking his head. “You a coward now. Ain’t gonna be less when you is King. You ain’t gonna let all these people through the gates.” Cid moved his arms out, implying all of Lestallum and the outlands. “You ain’t different than your pa. I need ta be with my son.” 

Regis couldn’t speak as he watched Cid walk past him and out the door. Cor simply let him go. 

After what felt like a lifetime, Regis moved. It was as if he was a wraith, drifting back to the only solid thing he had left. Clarus was sitting on the bed, chatting with the man they had saved. 

“He left, Clarus. Cid is gone, too.” 

~~~~ 

They were finally at the gates of Insomnia. Titus stared blankly at the massive wall as they waited for the final approval for admission into the city. They had left months ago with smiles on their faces and hope that they would be able to make a difference.    
  
Regis had collected Five Royal Arms, not being able to track down or pry out of the empire’s hands the remaining ones they knew of for certain. It hadn’t mattered. Each blade had pierced his chest, and he would do that a thousand times to bring back either of his two companions he had lost. 

Weskham was recovering well in Altissia. He expressed his desire to remain there for longer than they had originally expected. The Empire was patrolling the waters of Accordo, and no unnecessary travel was being allowed in or out for the foreseeable future. That would mean it might be years before he could return to them. 

Cid’s departure stung like he had lost his older brother, the wound still too fresh to even think about. Cid wasn’t corresponding back, and they had all figured that when the moment came, he would finally tell them how he was and when he planned to return. If he planned to return. 

They had brought only one thing back with them into the city, and that was the refugee Titus. He was a man of few words, but he was skilled in combat for someone so young. He would make a good addition to the Crownsguard, and with no family to turn back to, he had agreed to the training. 

The new wall opened up a small section, allowing the Regalia and a few refugees and military who were on foot to enter. They were all desperately holding sheets of paper in hand, their admission into the city.    
  
The wall must have been pulled back thanks to the attack. They had noticed that the wall was not where it had been on the eve of their journey, and now, the last protection of the city was directly upon the ramparts. 

“Cor.” Regis wanted nothing more than to forget all about the situation with the refugees, Cid’s words still an open wound. “I want you to be my personal bodyguard. Part of my retinue. I will clear it with my father.” 

“Why?” The boy shifted, using the mirror to make eye contact with the Prince. 

“I need you to keep me in my place. You aren’t afraid to speak your mind. Outside of Clarus and-” Regis stopped, taking in a deep breath. “Outside of Clarus, no one talks to me like you do.”

Cor nodded as he pulled into a checkpoint on the other side of the wall, the few who came by foot following just behind, before both the magical new wall and the physical wall closed behind them. 

Regis stepped out of the Regalia, seeing his home for the first time in months. 

“Hey, Cor. Take the Prince inside. Get started on the paperwork. I’ll be there in a second.” Clarus said, turning and heading to a group of what appeared to be Galahdian refugees.    
  
“Wonder what that’s all about.” Regis said, passing a few of the wall patrol Crownsguard and into the building. 

~~~~

Aulea was waiting on the steps of the citadel the moment the Regalia pulled up. She rushed down the stairs, tears in her eyes. Regis stepped out, abashed at the way she was acting. He opened his arms, waiting for the hug that he was expecting.

When a sharp clap echoed through the courtyard, followed by the intense stinging on his check, Regis realized that she had smacked him. 

“How dare you make me worry about you like that! They said you were dead! I don’t get a phone call or a message? You just show up two weeks later, with-” Clarus was stepping from the Regalia, and Titus was awkwardly shifting out of sight. There was a bark of laughter from Clarus as a driver from the Citadel relieved Cor from his driver seat, and took off with the car. 

“We were running from an army, Aulea. I didn’t-” Regis looked to the side, Aulea collapsing into his arms as she forced a kiss on his lips. 

“You’re an idiot, you know that? Don’t do that again!” Aulea hugged Regis once more around the neck before she beckoned the other two up the stairs. 

“Cor, King Mors is looking for you, and your new friend?”

“Drautos.” Titus followed after, eyes staring at the large tower that was the centerpoint of Insomnia. 

“Drautos, we can find you a place to sleep tonight. Regis, your father is hosting a banquet tonight for your return.” Aulea grabbed Regis’s arm, as they went back up the stairs and into the Citadel. Home. 

  
~~~~

“The Taelpar Crag?” Regis looked down at the paper, shaking his head. “We’ve been back a month and you both want to leave again? What am I supposed to do?”

“King Mors is declining. You ain’t leaving. If something happens-”

“And what happens when you don’t come back, either of you?” Regis stood, hands trembling on the page. 

“We will come back. That’s a promise. My father said I needed to go. He can’t leave the King.” Clarus placed his hand on Regis’s shoulder. “I’ve convinced my father to let Aulea stay in the Citadel while we are away. I believe your father will finally agree to your marriage with her.”

Regis shook his head, looking from Cor to Clarus. “I swear to the Astrals that if you both don’t come back, I will bring you back to kill you myself. I can’t lose either of you.” 

“I know.” Clarus pulled Regis in for a hug. 

“When do you leave?” Regis felt safe when Clarus held him, and in those moments, he knew everything would be alright. 

“Tomorrow morning.” Clarus didn’t let go, kissing Regis’s forehead gently. “We are being deployed with a large regiment. The King believes that the key to overwhelming the Empire’s new armies lies in those ruins somewhere. They are ancient and full of power. Everyone who has entered has not returned.”

“Don’t go in. That’s an order.” Regis pulled himself closer to Clarus. He couldn’t lose anyone else.

“I promise.” 

~~~~

Regis had been having a hard time sleeping the whole time that Clarus and Cor had been away. As soon as they had entered the Crag, he had stopped receiving updates. Regis felt sick to his stomach and could barely get anything down. He’d tried, but he was worried.

Clarus had been right, and after everything that had happened that year, Regis needed someone to comfort him. Aulea had been a godsend. 

“Okay, I brought this up from the kitchen.” Aulea handed a warm mug to Regis, a soft smile on her lips as she crawled into the bed with Regis, squishing their sides together. 

“Wesk used to melt down chocolate, and make fresh hot chocolate any time I was stressed. You remembered?” Regis smiled, looking over at the woman he would marry. Not by choice. It was his duty and responsibility. Regis loved her, but as a sister more than a lover. Regis had always known that his obligation to the Crown would separate him and Clarus.

  
“Of course I remember.” Aulea tucked her slippered feet under the covers with a hum. 

“You think they’ll be back soon?” Regis asked, staring down into the dark, swirling liquid. 

“I have a feeling they will be here any day now.” Aulea smirked, drinking from her own glass. 

There was a knock at the door, and both of them bolted up. It was late, and anyone looking for Regis at this hour could only mean one of a few things. Most of them were bad. There was another knock, harder and sharper than the last. 

“Regis.” 

Regis had never moved so quickly in his life. The cup was in Aulea’s hands as Regis scrambled across the room and to the door. “Clarus!” He flung the door open, and went to touch Clarus’s face to make sure he was real. 

Clarus laughed, his arms wrapping around Regis with a smile. 

Aulea climbed out of the bed, careful to not spill the fresh liquid. She wore a soft smile on her face as she came up to Clarus. “I am sure you two have some catching up to do.” 

Clarus leaned down just enough for Aulea to kiss him on the check and whisper in his ear. “He was worried to death about you. Don’t leave him for long again.” 

Without another word, Aluea left, both mugs in hand. 

“She’s right you know.” Regis frowned, staring into the pools of Clarus’s eyes. “I was worried to death.”

“I told you, my little prince, I was going to come back to you.” Clarus moved them through the doorway, letting the door close behind him. “I always will come back for you.”

“Is Cor okay?” Regis asked, the world being swept out from underneath him as Clarus lifted him off the ground. 

“Cor is fine.” Clarus moved them towards the bed. “And, before you ask, I will brief you in the morning. Right now it's late and I missed you.” 

Regis blushed, looking off to the side as he was placed on the bed. “You know me too well.”

“I do.” Clarus grabbed the hem of Regis’s shirt, pulling it off without much resistance. “And I want to know you all over again.” 

Regis reached up and entangled his fingers into Clarus’s hair, pulling him into a kiss. “I want you too, all over again.” 

Clarus was greedy, hands moving to the sleep pants the Prince wore, removing them and discarding it with the shirt. Regis’s hands moved up to Clarus’s, now that the Shield was supporting his back. 

Their lips only parted long enough for the shirt to go over Clarus’s head. Between passionate breaths, Regis was able to remove Clarus’s pants as they shifted to the center of the bed. 

Claurs summoned a bottle from the Armiger, the lubricant sitting next to Regis for a moment, while they pulled apart. 

“Hold on.” Regis held his hand to Clarus’s chest. “I want to see if you got any new scars.” There was a mischievous look on the Prince’s face. 

“Alright.” Clarus grabbed Regis’s waist, and flipped him over onto his back, bringing Regis with him. 

Regis moved, tracing down from Clarus’s ankles, recounting the scars as he moved up. “Coeurl.” Regis spoke, tracing a long healing scar from mid calf around. He had remembered this one, and Clarus had acted like nothing as the potion seared the wound closed.    
  
On his right leg, several smaller scars were patterned on the outside of his thigh. Regis traced them with his fingers, remembering the little arachnids that had swarmed out from the Arachne and attacked them. Clarus had taken the brunt of that battle.

He called out the names of the scars, lips kissing the inside of his thigh as he remembered how he had been mauled by a Voretooth in the wetlands of Cleigne. Reigs did pause for a moment, hovering on the aroused member, kissing it and massaging it to full attention before he moved up to Clarus’s stomach. 

Clarus moaned, sparks of pleasure at each touch, waiting and yearning for his prince to be ready.

The first scar here was because of his own making. Regis clearly saw the image of him warping and slicing the man with his training sword. He kissed it, the sounds of pleasure and goosebumps multiplying with each gentle touch. 

“I am still sorry about this one.” Regis ran his tongue across the white skin, showing it as much love as he was capable of. 

“It's nothing.” Clarus’s voice was low, a primal roll, as his eyes were locked on the prince. 

Regis moved over his chest, where even more tiny scars were. They looked like a well used cutting board, and Regis knew each scar like they were his own. Attacks from monsters, training accidents. Each white mark Clarus wore with pride. They meant he was a survivor. A warrior. 

Then, they came to Regis’s favorite part. He hated how the man liked wearing longer garments, as the black tattoo that covered parts of his arm and shoulder were some of his favorites. However, when he stripped, this sight was all for him.    
  


Regis touched sculpted biceps, until he came to a mark that was new and unfamiliar. “This one. Where’d it come from?”

“We were attacked on our way back. Magetik trooper sliced me from behind. I wasn’t ready.” Clarus shifted, looking at the mark. 

Regis kissed then licked at the inflamed mark. He would remember this scar as the one Clarus gained while he was away. 

“Turn over.” Regis commanded, watching as Clarus shifted, on hands and knees now, his back facing the prince. 

Regis smirked, running his hands up calves to the outside of his thighs. He kissed gently on the man’s ass, before taking a loving nibble. Clarus gasped, fingers wrapping in the sheets. 

“You want it this way?” Clarus moaned, turning his head as the prince continued to count the scars, shifting over the man’s body, his erection rubbing on Clarus as he touched the tattooed and scarred back. 

“I don’t think so. After all, you’re going to be getting married soon.” Regis didn’t say it like it was a bad thing, just a thing. 

They knew that their tryst would have to come to an end. It wouldn’t stop their feelings or their desires, but they had both agreed that while they were married, they would not be unfaithful. Aulea said she wouldn’t have minded. After all, Clarus was his first true love. 

Amber Lily, however, had wanted Clarus all to herself. She was a Galhadian refugee, the same one Clarus had caught sight of that day on the way back from Accordo. She had the most beautiful honey colored eyes that either of them had ever seen. Amber Lily was a good fit for Clarus, and while he was falling in love with her, his heart would always belong to Regis.

“As you wish, my Prince.” 

As soon as Regis was done counting the scars, worshipping each mark on the once perfect flesh, he flipped over, handing over the bottle to Clarus. “I want you to make me feel like the first time.” The desire laced in the words was a challenge, one that the Shield would have to oblige by. 

“Yes, Highness.” Clarus licked his lips while he coated his fingers in lube. 

Clarus didn’t hesitate, sticking one finger in, lifting Regis’s leg to rest on his shoulder. Regis gasped, each slow stroke inside him like fire. Regis forced his eyes closed, feeling the second finger enter, and he bit his lip. Clarus grabbed the base of his cock, causing Regis to breath in sharply. His fingers and hand worked together, slow motions, making sure that the Prince was ready. 

“I love you,” Regis’s words were breathy as the third finger entered. It was pain, and electricity, the feeling of it almost too much to handle. Yet Clarus was always just gentle enough. 

Regis was suddenly empty, the feeling forcing his body to shudder as his eyes bolted open. He looked at Clarus, locking eyes as he got himself in position. 

“Ready?” It was a gutteral noise, Clarus stroking his own member now. 

Regis nodded, feeling a bead of sweat fall from his forehead. “Yes. Please.”

Clarus pressed in slow, Regis bucking and arching at the feeling of his lover. He clenched, forcing a long moan from Clarus as he pressed until he was entirely inside. 

Slowly, he pulled out, gasps and moans mingling to the point where neither knew whose breathing was which. Regis grabbed the sheets, one foot helping him thrust and move with Clarus. Smooth movements, growing faster as they rode the warmth, the electricity. 

Clarus tilted his head back, fingers digging into thighs as his pace increased even more. Heavy breathing matched rapid heart beats. Two beings becoming one as the passion coiled, building. 

“Clarus, I’m-” Regis arched as he lost his breath, calling for Clarus. There was one final call as Regis came, followed swiftly by Clarus. 

They collapsed, Clarus still inside as they breathed, remembering only now that they were seperate beings. 

Regis pulled away, staring at his Shield as he weakly reached up to touch the sweaty chest of his lover. “Come here.” Regis asked. 

They were both on fire, the throes of passion still burning them from the inside, but Regis didn’t care. He wanted to feel Clarus next to him. “Don’t leave me.” 

“Never again.” Clarus promised, shifting only enough to remove the condom he had placed on himself. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg. Cid leaving hurt too. I know it is cannon but my heart! 
> 
> Thank you everyone for sticking with this fic so far. It is only going to get deeper!
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments! 
> 
> The wonderful art was done by
> 
> [PancitLomi](https://twitter.com/PancitLomi)
> 
> as part of the Rarepair BB 2020 and I couldn't be happier with it. Their looks are so beautiful towards each other! Thank you for putting up with my obnoxiously long fic!


	6. The Death of a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Mors dies from the strain of keeping Insomnia safe. Now, King Regis must learn to be King fast. Life continues to move, and as he watches his first love marry and have a child, he too must move on and produce the heir he is supposed to.

Rain pounded the windows of the Citadel hard and fast. It was the worst storm Insomnia had seen in a decade. The constant hammering of the rain, the occasional whistle of wind, everything was a backdrop to the man laying on the bed. 

Regis forced the tears from his eyes as his father grabbed his hand and pulled him close. There was not much strength in the man any more. The doctors had told them that Mors would join the other Kings of Lucis soon. Regis had already taken on the duties of the wall, keeping the citizens of Insomnia safe. Even without the doctors, he had known when the ring had been passed to him that it wouldn’t be long. 

“Son?” Mors spoke from chapped lips, tongue licking slightly at them. “You remember what I taught you?”

Regis gripped his father's hand, feeling a pang in his heart. A strong hand grounded him, bringing him back down to earth. Clarus. 

“Yes, father.” In truth, Mors hadn’t taught him many things. Regis couldn’t deny his dying father this though. It was easier to agree. 

“You will make a good King. Take Aulea,” Mors coughed, his frail body shaking with the effort. There was silence for a moment, and everyone in the room held their breath. Finally, Mors continued. “Take her as your queen. I give you my blessing.” 

  
That was the first time that his father had given him permission, and the shock of it had Regis confused. He didn’t have any time to thank his father. Mor’s fingers loosened, and his mouth grew slack. 

Mors was gone. 

Regis turned, feeling his skin prickle and grow cold. He was walking, a hand at his back. “Clarus?”

There was a bustling of movement, as Regis was brought into a chair to sit. 

“The King is dead.” 

“Highness,” There was a face before him, Regis unable to find his name in the suppression of emotions. There was a large crack of lightning outside the window as Regis tried to focus on the man before him. The man was kneeling?

Regis didn’t hear a word of it, the only thing he could focus on was Clarus at his side, and his big booming voice. Then, the man was gone. 

“Regis,” Clarus shifted, and brought his eyes level with him. “They are taking him to his tomb tomorrow. You will be crowned in three days.” 

There was a moistness to his face, Regis bringing trembling fingers to it. Tears. Why was he crying?

“I’m not ready.” The words sounded distant from his lips. 

“I know.” 

~~~~

The thunder was unrelenting as if Mors had called upon Ramuh to make his death known throughout all of Lucis. Regis’s hand was steady, the many people moving through his room forcing paperwork upon paperwork before him. There was another at his side, the man who had replaced Weskham as his advisor. Regis couldn’t remember what he was called. 

It felt like hours, the buzzing of flies, the words of advice that were unimportant in every regard. Regis knew not what he was signing or why, just that Clarus was there, hand firm through his pain. 

They were finally alone. All except for the King’s advisor.

“Wait.” Regis held up his hand as he opened a drawer, pulling an old rusted hammer from its long held spot. During their travels, Regis had kept the silly gift in the Armiger. 

“Cid knew my father for longer than I’ve been alive.” Regis summoned a sharp knife from the Armiger as he started to carve words into the metal head. 

It took a moment before he was done, but when he was he nodded with approval and passed the hammer to the advisor. “Get this to Cid, tonight. Send him an invitation to my father's burial ceremony and-”

The words choked in his throat. “Weskham too. I would like them to come to my coronation.”

“Yes, Highness.” 

With that, it was only the two of them. Regis looked up at Clarus, who was now moving towards him. His mouth opened, and he wanted to force words from his lips. There was nothing to say. 

“Tomorrow is a long day,” Clarus moved his calloused fingers to Regis’s check, tracing the tear stains down his smooth face. “Let’s get some rest.”

Regis nodded, knowing that now, there would be very few times he would be able to let his shoulders slump any more. So he didn’t stand tall. He stood, feeling his body collapse into his Shield’s. Clarus would never fault him for his weakness. 

~~~~

Cor hadn’t been the same since his encounter in the Taelpar Crag. The Cownsguard had said he had entered with one hundred of their best only to return alone. At first, Regis had missed the spit fire boy, and even though he was young, he acted older now. The fire deep within Cor had been Tempered. Cor the immortal had emerged from the trials instead.

It was still raining as they stood in the grand open lobby of the Citadel. Mor’s body was on a table, inside a casket. It would have been sad if it wasn’t for how crowded the space was. As soon as they stepped from the elevator, a group of five Crownsguard swarmed them to keep everyone, especially the media, away. 

Everything felt like a dream as they forced their way to where the casket and hundreds of flowers sat. Aulea was standing there, a simple black gown covering her and a black veil shrouding her face. There were two Crownsguard standing to either side of her, and she looked like a painting in the dull thundering noise. 

“Aulea.” Regis grasped for her gloved hand, pulling it up to his mouth. He didn’t notice the clicking and flashing of the cameras. 

“You should head out first.” Regis squeezed her fingers as she nodded. 

“I wanted to see you, make sure you are okay. I can’t imagine how you are feeling.” Aulea moved her free hand to Regis’s face. It was pale and chalky, his black mustache stark against his face. It had grown fast during the weeks leading to his father's death. 

“I don’t really know how to feel.” Regis was truthful, more than anything, he was ready to have something go his way. 

“You will be alright, I know you will.” Aulea’s hand fell from his face, letting a small sigh press from her lips. “I will see you in the car.” 

Regis let Aulea’s fingers slip from his grasp. She gestured to her guards, and they made their way through the crowd. Regis shouldn't have been surprised to see her, but in his grief, he hadn’t even thought about her being there. 

When she was no longer in sight, Regis turned to Clarus, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

“You sure?” Clarus moved to put all space between them. 

“I am.” Regis wanted to reach out, touch Clarus. The comfort that he could have had in that one moment was lost. It was too public. 

They moved to the casket, Regis’s fingers gently touching the smooth wood. The mahogany was a dark and smooth red. It had been polished and shined, the wood gleaming in the interior lights. 

Regis hesitated, and no one pushed him. They were waiting for him. He swallowed, knowing what was inside the box, and his heart tugged. Shaking his head, he looked over to Clarus and for the first time saw his father, Validus, standing there, as well. 

It hadn’t passed Regis’s thoughts that the old Shield would be here, but of course he would. It had been his duty to protect his father. How were you supposed to protect someone who was dying to protect the people? Validus stood there while Mors had made all the hard decisions, as Clarus would for him. 

“Let’s take him to his rest.” Regis spoke, and the words seemed distant, dry. It was enough of a command, and everyone fell in place. 

Six sets of hands moved around the hand holds of the coffin. Regis was at the head, an unknown Crownsgaurd, a fabric pulled over his face in mourning at the other side. Clarus stood directly behind him, Validus across from him. Two other Crownsgaurd took the rear. On Regis’s command, they lifted, bringing the surprisingly light box from the table. 

The whole citadel fell into a hush as they proceeded forward. Where once the crowd had pushed forward to get a better view, now they were parted like an invisible hand moved them aside. 

The King was to be escorted to the temporary tomb where he would be kept until all had said their goodbyes and the city had forgotten. His tomb would be finished and he would be transported there under the cover of night. The common folk didn’t know about the tombs of the Kings, nor did they need to know. 

Today, however, would be the last time Regis saw his father. That much he was certain.

With that, they trudged on, Clarus the only reason Regis didn’t falter. His steps strengthened as they moved towards the car, and he knew that if Clarus was there, he would be able to serve as a good King. 

~~~~

“It’s a formality, your Highness.” Regis let a stubborn breath from his lungs as he was dressed in an outfit more uncomfortable than most he was squeezed into. 

“I am already King.” Regis looked at himself in the mirror. There had been very little sleep in the past few nights, and that was more than obvious in his face. 

“Yes, Highness-” there was a sharp pull on something that he couldn’t see as the tailor attached something in place. “However, the people wish to see some joy after the loss of King Mors.” 

“So we throw a party?” Regis growled, the sting that was the loss of his father still fresh. 

They had been informed, not asked but told, that there was to be a three day festival starting with Regis’s coronation. This was to bolster spirits and boost the economy. Regis had wished this to be canceled, but it was tradition. 

“Yes, Highness.” Regis looked at the advisor in the mirror, Prudens was the name of his new advisor. He had served under Mors, and until his retirement, he would be Regis’s knowledge, the bird in his ear. 

There was silence for a moment, and soon, Regis was dressed in a long black robe, fine crushed silk and a suit underneath. His hair had been fussed back, and was slicked with gel, so as to better hold the crown taken from his father’s head. 

“Will Validus be there?” Regis stepped down from the box as the tailor finished packing his things, grabbed the box, and departed without another word.

“We have not heard from him since he escorted your father to his tomb.” Prudens spoke, his wrinkled fingers mostly hidden in his long counselor robes. 

“Any word from Cid?” Regis moved past the man, not wanting to hear it any more. He had a feeling that they would not be seeing the old Shield again. While it wasn’t dishonorable for a King to die before their Shield, it was a failure. Regis had heard stories of Shields guarding their King’s tombs for the rest of their lives. That was likely what Validus was planning. It didn’t matter to Regis, and Clarus would have to come to that loss now, too. 

“Nothing.” The words were cold, flat. Regis had expected to see the old friend, but he was more stubborn than a Garula. They had heard from Weskham, and he had wished to make it, but alas, with the death of King Mors, the Empire was buzzing about again and it was dangerous to exit Altissia and enter Insomnia. 

The risk was too great. Regis didn’t blame Weskham, but he had hoped that he would have been able to see his old friend once more. 

“How long until the ceremony?” Regis asked carelessly over his shoulder. 

“An hour. You should find your Shield and report to the antechamber.”

Regis nodded, dismissing the advisor. He knew a short cut, one that would be relatively deserted, and that was exactly what Regis needed. 

Turning the corner, Clarus pushed himself from the wall. He had been waiting for him here of all places. 

“My father called me, just now.” Clarus’s voice was flat, all emotion run away with itself. “He said he isn't coming back.”

Regis felt the flesh on his arms cool and prickle. It was one thing knowing the truth, another hearing it. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Clarus reached out for Regis, closing the gap between them. They embraced, Clarus’s arms wrapping around Regis’s smaller shoulders. “He says it is for his honor as Shield. He said if I wasn’t ready, he wouldn’t have left me.”

There was silence for a moment, Clarus refusing to let his little Prince go. After all, this would be the last moments that Regis was in fact a prince. “Ain’t sure I’m ready.”

“You and me both.” Regis leaned against the other man, angry with the amount of fabric between them now. He wanted nothing more than to feel Clarus’s heart beating firmly in his chest. 

“We’ll do fine. Both of us.” Clarus squeezed Regis, not wanting to release him, but knowing they wouldn't be able to stay here much longer before someone would come searching them out. The fate of millions were now in their hands. There was no failure. Regis was determined to not make the mistakes of his younger years. He had to be a better King than his father.

~~~~

It was finally the day. Regis felt nauseous, the world over the past year had slowly closed in on them. Amber Lily had forced a proposal onto Clarus, and had reigned in everything from that moment forward. It had all happened so quickly, and now Regis was losing Clarus. 

It was one thing knowing that they had to do this, it was another for it to actually come to fruition. 

Clarus stood, staring at himself in the mirror. He has started to wear his brown hair short, almost completely shaved. The pure black tux looked odd on him, the garment tighter fitting to his usual attire. The stark white on his chest stood out against the richness of his skin and the biting black of the jacket. There was a single tiger lily pinned to his lapel, drawing all attention from Clarus to the flower. They were Amber’s favorite. 

“Are you really going to do this?” Regis leaned against the wall, taking in every inch of the other man. 

“Regis,” Clarus shifted, and took only a few steps forward with his long legs. “You will always be my first love, but-” Regis hated buts, “I love her too. I didn't think I could, but damn me if I don’t.” 

They had talked around this conversation so many different ways. Regis understood, but perhaps not enough. Aulea was the right woman for Regis. He knew that deep in his core. It just wasn’t the same as Regis’s feelings for Clarus. 

“I know.” Regis let his head fall on Clarus’s chest. They had promised each other to be monogamous. The promise had come lighter, before Regis had really known what he was feeling. He was jealous, but there was no way around it. “I am happy for you.”

They pulled apart, blue eyes meeting each other's gaze. Clarus’s hand went up to the soft curve of metal delicately placed in the straight black hair. “I ain’t going nowhere.” 

“I know.” Regis felt the words fall out of his mouth like they were instinct. He could also tell that Clarus wasn’t buying the whole speech. They could run around the issue all day and never get anywhere. Perhaps that was what Regis was hoping for. 

They were interrupted. An unapologetic, stern voice. “We are ready, Clarus.”

“Just a moment longer.” Regis begged, turning to look at Cor. He was older now, the tempering of his personality had been slow, although his beliefs and steadfast personality remained. If anything, he was more frightening than he had been as a wild and uncontrollable youth. 

“If you keep the bride waiting too much longer, not even I can save you from her wrath.” Cor let a chuckle escape his lips. He didn’t question it. Cor knew what they meant to each other. There was a difficulty today. He left, and they both knew that beyond the door was Cor and half of Insomnia. 

“You really look handsome. I am jealous.” Regis laughed, trying to make light of his feelings, to push back the ache in his chest. It fell flat. 

“In another life, in another place, I would take you for mine and not let another come near you.” Clarus placed his hand tenderly on Regis’s face. They stayed this way for a moment, until a sharp knock came from the door. 

“Majesty, now.” Cor had let them have as much time as was possible. They knew that. Before they could be truly interrupted, Clarus leaned down slightly and pressed their lips together. Their last kiss.

~~~~

A few months later, A letter arrived at the Citadel. Regis was sitting on the throne, Cor standing in as a replacement to Clarus. He looked stern in his Crownsguard outfit, reading the letter first. 

“Cid’s a granddad. Mid and Melba gave birth to a girl. Cindy.” Cor passed the letter to Regis. It was addressed to Cor and Clarus, not Regis. 

“He’s still mad?” Regis let his head fall into his hand, elbow digging into the arm of the throne. “I’m happy for him. Send Melba a bouquet of flowers and a basket of fresh fruit.”

An attendant scribbled off on a note, before bowing and taking his leave. Regis sat there for a moment, listening to another matter that had come before them; a plebe who was requesting aid for their farm after a terrible flood. Regis agreed, not having listened to the details. The man bowed, thanking him with tears in his eyes. 

As the man left, Regis stood. “I am taking leave. All other concerns are to go through Prudens.”

Regis left, Cor at his back. They moved to the antechamber, where Regis told the servants to leave them alone. 

“What’s wrong, Regis?” Cor spoke, dropping the formality as he knew how Regis hated it. 

“I am tired. I miss Clarus.” Regis didn’t look up from his hands as he collapsed into a plush chair. The words held a deeper meaning, and Cor would be the only person who would truly understand. Clarus had been busy, spending less time in the Citadel and more time with his new wife. Regis had been starving for physical contact, as well. All over, he had felt lonely since Clarus’s marriage. 

“I am sorry, Regis.” Cor stepped forward, placing his hand gently on the other man’s shoulder. 

There was silence for a moment, the time stretching out longer than it should have. With a shuddered breath, Regis looked up, meeting Cor’s crystal blue eyes.

“Everyone has been able to move on.” Regis’s voice was full of sadness. “I can’t seem to do the same.”

Cor moved, placing himself in front of Regis. A slight frown came to his lips, a sigh pressing before the words. “If I may, Regis?”

“Of course.” Regis shifted, leaning forward, bringing them closer. 

Cor leaned forward, their lips touching in a single moment of shock. As that passed, Regis’s fingers found Cor’s hair, pulling him forward by the nape of his neck. The baret that he wore fell to the ground as the kiss deepened. 

Breathlessly, Cor pulled away. He stood, looking abashed towards the corner of the room. “My apologies, Majesty.”

Regis was on his feet a mischievous look on his lips as he came to stand in front of Cor. “No apologies and do not use my title in private.”

“Yes-” Cor’s words were smothered in another kiss, all pretense left behind as they now grabbed at each other, bodies warming at their touch. 

They stayed locked together at the mouth as fingers moved over each other. It wasn’t until Regis attempted to remove Cor’s jacket that the man moved away. His hands moved down his sides, flattening his shirt and jacket. 

“We shouldn't do this here.” It was like a flip had been switched, and while most of Cor sang one tune, there was a hint otherwise. The tightness in his pants implied that Cor was putting forth a great deal of restraint. 

“As you wish. Marshal.”

~~~~

Regis had pushed off his own marriage for far longer than he knew he should have. His life was not a secret, at least in means that his engagement to Aulea was known. It had been known that Aulea was going to be the Queen even before Regis had proposed. Yet, Regis had still pushed it off. 

Perhaps it was the new passion he felt for Cor, or even that he was lying to himself saying he was protecting Aulea. Their marriage would mean a child, and the woman not from the line of Kings were incapable of surviving the birth of their offspring. Regis had told her all of this, yet her love for him was strong. She would not hesitate to do anything to make him happy. 

Aulea did make him happy. She occupied a part of Regis’s heart reserved just for her, and perhaps that was why he wanted to keep her from her fate. It hadn’t been until Cor had put a hard stop on their relationship that Regis finally put out a date. 

Regis watched himself in the mirror, staring at the man he had become. He was starting to age, the toll of the wall was stressful. It was why he couldn’t leave the city, why he was unable to visit his old friends: Weskham and Cid. His obligations as the King were more important and the people under his protection needed to stay that way. If the wall wavered for even a moment, the Empire would attack. 

This was the life he had to live. 

There was a soft rap on the door, and before anyone could answer, Clarus let himself in. He looked just as handsome as he had at his own wedding, except the vibrant flower was missing. Cor stepped aside, moving across the room to leave them alone. It was almost as if he was slightly abashed. Regis had told Clarus after that they had started fooling around. 

At first, the older man had been jealous, but he had understood. He had accepted it, realizing that Cor was not the same kid they had dragged all over Eos and back. Cor was an adult, and he had matured very well. 

_ “I think he is a wise choice. I mean, I’m better.” _ Clarus had joked, and he hadn’t been wrong. Even still, they both had known they would be separated. The longing was strong, and Clarus often spoke about how he missed him. Regis couldn’t admit that he too missed Clarus. 

“Are you ready?” Claurs spoke, coming to stand behind him. Regis didn’t turn, looking at his Shield through the mirror. 

“No.” Regis was honest, a feeling of impending dread was slowly crawling over him. 

“You’ll do fine.” Clarus reassured, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. 

“I know.” 

That wasn’t the issue, not even for a second. It was something else, something that Regis couldn’t explain. They let it sit there, the silence more comforting than it should be. 

It was Clarus that acted first. His hand moved to the right side of Regis’s head, fingers gently pushing the silver crown. It took everything in Regis’s power to not lean into the touch, collapse into his Shield's arms. 

“I’m ready.” 

~~~~

  
“She is? Aulea and I are on our way.” Regis pressed the red circle with the phone symbol on it to end the call as he stood from his spot. He had been filling out paperwork in his home office, his room set up similarly to his old room except on a grander scale. 

Aulea was lounging on the bed, a book in her hand, a simple long while night dress laying softly around her. Regis smiled, his hands moving to his chin as he just looked at her. She looked like a painting, so serene and peaceful. Yet, he had to disturb her. 

“Aulea.” Her head turned slowly, a smile spreading softly, creasing her checks at the motion.

“Isn’t it a bit early for you to be retiring, my King?” Regis could feel his heart warm at her words. Even after a year of marriage, she was still so wonderful to him. 

“It isn’t that.” Regis moved closer to her, placing a hand on hers. “Amber Lily has given birth.” 

Aulea’s storm blue eyes widened, and the soft curl of her lips filled out. While Regis had been feeling the elation before, now, he couldn’t help be wrapped in it. “Get dressed. I’ll get a car ready.”

Regis took one look at Aulea as she moved from the bed and towards the dresser. He was lucky to have found someone like Aulea. She was kind, independent and strong. She also understood Regis. Perhaps more than he did himself. 

It took less than fifteen minutes for Aulea to dress, a short blue spring dress, and for Regis to have the car pulled up to the steps of the Citadel. 

As they descended the steps into the fresh and crisp April air, Regis’s arm was extended out for Aulea to grasp onto. It was something he always did when they were out in public, although with him being the young King that was often. 

Regis opened the door for his wife, watching as she delicately placed herself inside, tucking the short skirt under her before Regis let the door close on her. It was late, and looking overhead, Regis could see the stars through the glimmer and glow of the city and the wall.

If he thought about it enough, Regis could feel the whole of the city under his protection pulsing and thriving off of his power. He could feel how taxing it was to keep his citizens alive. It was only now, years after his father's death, that he understood why the wall must be pulled back and why they had to abandon parts of Lucis. They were fighting a losing battle, just waiting for the Chosen King to return and save them. 

The ride to the hospital was quick; Insomnia General was the main location for most of the noble medical treatment, and the best doctors in the city worked here. They were greeted by several Crownsguard, meeting him at the car and escorting them to Clarus. 

Regis could feel Aulea on his arm, vibrating at the chance to meet the newest member of the family. It was true that Amber Lily had no relation to them, but her and Aulea had become fast friends. Regis still hadn’t known if they had bonded over the fact that their husbands were always busy or if their bond was deeper than that. It hadn’t bothered either of them. In fact, it had made everything easier. Aulea had had a difficult time making friends with many of the noble women in the Citadel, and this friendship would only benefit them as this new potential Shield grew for their future child. 

Aulea slipped from Regis’s grasp as she pushed her way into the room. As if by teleportation, she was at Lily’s side, and a small tightly wrapped bundle was in her arms. Regis chuckled, moving towards Clarus. 

Clarus looked worn and tired. The labor had been long and taxing on both of the parents. Clarus was dressed down, wearing a simple white shirt and black pants. It was the least amount of clothing the man had worn in Insomnia in as long as Regis could remember. It was refreshing.

“Congrats,” Regis grabbed Clarus’s arm, and pulled him in for a hug. It was quick, as they both knew that they were supposed to keep their physical contact to a minimum. The longing was too much if they kept the touch too intimate. Regis took a breath in, Clarus’s smell engulfing him, a scent that he missed dearly.

“Thanks.” Clarus slapped Regis on the back before pulling away and taking a step closer to the hospital bed. “Meet Gladiolus Amicitia. Future Shield for the future King.” Clarus caught a glance from Amber and cleared his throat. “Or Queen. Whichever.”

Regis laughed, fingers coming to the small boy’s face with a soft smile. “Welcome to the world little one.” 

It was at that moment that Aulea looked up, and their eyes met. He knew that now, Aulea would be wanting a child herself. It was the nature of how hormones worked. He had pushed it off for as long as he could. 

~~~~

_ “Greetings People of Lucis.” _ A slow drawling voice came from what looked like one of the patrol officers from the outer walls of the city. 

“Majesty,” A tablet was in front of Regis as he walked the hallways of the Citadel. Warnings were flaring from the center of Insomnia as Regis’s walk accelerated. 

_ “Do forgive me for interrupting the festivities, but I must tell you this day of rapturous revelry will be your last.”  _

“We have reports that multiple fires have been started in the center of the festivities.” The other guard spoke, both keeping with Regis’s quick pace.

_ “Call it Divine Retribution. False Kings and fraudulent nations are fated to perish. The sins of the past must not go unpunished. The time of reckoning is at hand!”  _

_ “And today you shall atone on behalf of your forebe-” _ The static on the tablet flickered as Regis attempted to keep his anger in check. 

“Who is he?” His voice was level, the two personal guards keeping exactly one step behind him. 

“We’ve yet to ID him.” The guard spoke, but Regis could feel the man clench his fingers at his side. 

_ “Resist if you wish. _ ” The putrid words of the foolish man who decided to attack Insomnia was the only noise over the clicking of the trio’s heels on the hard flooring. He would pay. _ “But know that your fighting against fate is a futile one.”  _

“Whoever he is,” Regis turned and placed the tablet in the Crownsguard’s hand, “it's clear he wishes us harm. You stay here.  _ I’m  _ going to put a stop to this madman.”

Regis stepped into an elevator, the direct order to keep the Citadel safe running in his wake as the doors closed. Regis slipped an ear piece into his ear as the elevator moved at his order. 

“Clarus.” It was a code red, and he knew the other man would have his communicator in. It was protocall. 

“Yes.” Clarus sounded out of breath as he spoke. 

“We have a situation.” Regis tapped his foot impatiently, the elevator moving far too slowly for his liking. 

“I am aware, Majesty.” There was a slight static on the words, Clarus was still on the move. 

“Keep me posted.” With the earbud in, Regis was now keyed into the dialogue between the Crownsguard and Clarus, although unless Regis wished, they were unable to hear him. 

“Always.” There was the sound of metal hitting metal over the communicator, and Regis could feel that Clarus had summoned his sword. He rarely tapped into Regis’s magic anymore, knowing what the slow drain did to his King. The doors finally opened, and Regis moved quickly down the abandoned hallway.

_ “Attention all units.” _ Clarus’s voice was clear, strong. He had switched so quickly from his private person to his professional one, if the adrenaline hadn’t been pumping through Regis’s veins, he would have gotten whiplash.  _ “This is your captain speaking. Code Red. I repeat. Code Red. Follow your commanders orders and get the situation under control.” _

Regis was glad that the hallways were empty. It meant that whomever had wanted to destroy the Founder Day celebration had not made the citadel his main target. 

_ “Clarus here.” _ There was another shift in tone, softer than the one used to address the bulk of the Guards.  _ “Have you identified the creature?” _

_ “Not yet.” _ Another voice came over, the com and Regis couldn’t place the specific Crownsguard’s name.  _ “But we believe its deamonic in nature.” _

“Deamonic? In Insomnia.” Regis cursed under his breath as he pushed open a door. His room was mostly empty, except for Aulea and her handmaid. They were in the midst of dressing, and the maid gasped at the sudden entrance, stepping back as if she had been slapped. 

_ “A Deamon?” _ Clarus sounded just as stunned as Regis was over the radio.  _ “But how could it possibly withstand the daylight?” _

“Aulea, I am putting an armed patrol on you. The city is under attack.” Regis was at her side in a moment, as he wrapped her arms around her. 

_ “For now, help the citizens evacuate. The vanguard will take care of the giant.” _

“Attack?” There was full panic in her voice as she gripped Regis’s royal robes. 

“Yes. I am going to take care of it. It is only two beings. Not a threat, but I need to assure you are safe.” Regis placed a soft kiss on Aulea’s temple. It might not have looked it, but Aulea was carrying another being in her body, a son if she was correct. Regis wouldn’t let anything happen to her or their child. “You will be safe.”

_ “The Crownsguard is almost wiped out sir. Target is still on the move.” _

“Shit.” Regis pulled away, wishing he could stay with Aulea and assure her protection without any doubt. But his people came before his own safety. Three guards entered their room at that moment, and Regis quickly told the men to protect Aulea with their life. 

Then he was gone, back into the hallway, but following it further down. There was somewhere he needed to go. 

_ “Special forces are on the way. Try to hold out until they arrive.” _ Clarus’s voice was wavering. Whatever this was, it was no ordinary attack.

“What the fuck is going on?” Regis growled, his feet not moving as quickly as he wished they would. 

_ “Sir, we’ve identified the giant. It's the Infernian. Ifrit the Infernian!” _

Regis stopped dead in his tracks, his heart plummeting through his chest and into his gut. “No.” It was impossible. Ifrit was sleeping atop Ravatogh. Wasn’t he?

_ “An Astral?” _

_ “Yes sir. One of our officers seems to be controlling the Infernian, but we can’t get an ID on him.” _

_ “What? Find out who he is at once!”  _ It was the first crack in Clarus’s voice, and Regis knew that he was starting to falter, if even slightly. 

“Clarus.” Regis spoke, his feet moving once more as he realized just how imperative this was. He was the only one who could stop Ifrit. 

_ “Regis?” _ Clarus spoke, the last bits of the edge falling from his voice. 

“I am going to activate parts of the old wall's protection. I think I know what they’re after.” Regis found his way into a secret passage at the end of the hallway, slipping behind the wall as it too closed behind him. 

_ “No.” _ Clarus’s voice cut sharply, and Regis had to take a second to steady himself. 

“I have to Clarus! There is no other choice!” Regis could feel the skin prickling his skin as he made his way into a chamber, one of the many that was reserved for the King and their inner circle. Only a small handful of people knew this place existed. 

_ “You mustn’t!” _ Clarus begged. 

“I’ll be fine. You send your guards to the amplifiers around town, keep them safe. That’s an order.”

_ “Yes. Majesty.” _

The click at the end cut deeper than the words had, but there was no time for it. Regis had to act, and he had to act now. There was a podium at the center of the room. He strode up to it, placing his hands on the two orbs. 

Immediately, the ring of Lucis began to glow. “Kings of the Past.” The world slowed, an almost blue tinge overcame everything. Regis knew where he was, what he was going to have to do. 

**_“We are here.”_ ** A deep, gravelly voice responded as a figure materialized before him. It was one of the many kings of the past, their image a reflection of Bahamut. 

“I ask for your power to protect our city. The Infernian is here to destroy us. Someone is here controlling him.” Regis looked up, his eyes seeing now many of the former Kings and Queens standing around him. 

**_“The intruder must be stopped.”_ ** It was a chorus of voices, and the ring on Regis’s finger burned slightly. 

As quickly as it happened, it was over. Regis felt himself waver for a moment, and then he collapsed. The cold marble came to meet him quicker than he was able, as he felt his magic activate as his vision turned black. 

Regis felt himself come to, uncertain exactly how long he had been out. He needed to check in with everyone. “What’s the situation.”

_ “Unfavorable. The target has been destroying the wall amplifiers.” _ Clarus was at least answering him straight. After he had purposefully put himself in harm's way, he was glad that Shield wasn’t more angry with him. 

“Who is he?” Regis stood, feeling a slight ache coming to his head. It would heal on its own, that Regis knew. 

_ “We can’t identify him, but he’s a skilled combatant and he seems to have the Infernian under his control.”  _ Even hearing the words out of Clarus’s mouth didn’t make any more sense. Had Regis’s plea to the old kings not done anything?  _ “I fear we must prepare for the worst, your majesty.” _

“No.” Regis was moving again, and although he was feeling unsteady, he could feel the power of the Lucii pulsing in his veins. His head was aching less and he was feeling stronger. “I will be a last defence against whatever this madman has for us.” 

_ “Regis!” _ Clarus called out, but Regis wasn’t going to listen. Not any more. He had made up his mind. No one attacked his city on his watch. 

It was easy to get to the main courtyard of the Citadel from where he was, but it seemed quicker, easier than it should have. When he arrived, there was but a single man in the courtyard, and he was approaching him. 

“Is something wrong, officer?” Regis and the man were only a few paces away, and something felt so very wrong. 

“Ah, you must be his majesty?” Regis recognized the voice from earlier. This was no ordinary Crownsguard. It was the same man trying to bring down everything that was his to protect.

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” Regis moved stiffly, as they came closer. He was not unknowing, but if he could just get close enough to get within the other man’s defenses. “Why are you here?”

“Why, for you!” The words were light and playful as the man moved quickly. Regis reacted just as quickly. In the blink of an eye, two sets of Royal Arms were out, a red set surrounding Regis as his blue one hovered menacingly over the intruder. 

“The Royal Arms. Who are you?” Regis’s right hand was outstretched with the Ring of the Lucii guiding his actions. 

“You ought to know, being a man of royal blood yourself.” This man spoke as if there was no threat to his being, and as if this whole situation was a joke. 

Regis gasped, the words forced from his lips. “Adagium!”

  
“In the flesh! Here to bring the bloodline of Lucis to an end!” Adagium laughed, the facade falling from about him. 

“Hear me Adagium. On my honor as king, I will vanquish you!” Regis tapped into his com, not speaking directly to Clarus, but hoping his Shield would hear and realize what was going on. He needed Clarus if this man was indeed the Adagium. 

“Oh dear, what an awful thing to say to your own flesh and blood.” Adagium laughed, and in one swift movement, they were crossing blades. They were both skilled, metal clashing and biting flesh. Breathlessly, Regis tried to keep up with Adagium. 

“Such power...” Regis could feel the old Kings pulsing their power through him, and yet, it was still not enough. 

“Yes. I’m afraid that trait seems to have skipped a generation or two.”

It wasn’t until Ifrit was summoned that Regis felt he was truly at a disadvantage. It was clear that the Infernian was suffering from the starscourge but even still, only the true King was supposed to be able to form bonds with the Astrals. The Adagium was not the true King. No, he was anything but. “This monster must be contained. He is too dangerous! He must be stopped!”

“Must I? Really? By whom? Might I ask? What a shame? I expected more from a legendary king of Lucis.” Everything that he spoke was a joke, and that caused even more anger to pulse through him. 

Regis warped, his sword taking him to the lower levels of the courtyard. He gets up from kneeling “Well, I certainly would hate to disappoint.”

“No quarter for you!” Regis centered all his energy, power of old and new bringing out his armiger and shield. At every turn, as Regis used more magic and power, so did Adagium. Beat for beat, they were matched evenly. 

Then, the auburn haired man pulled at his own daemon side. The tar-like tears warped his face as all the color fled from him. He looked sick, and his aggression that came with the transformation was near impossible to counter. 

The magic of the Lucii was not enough, not through shield nor through each additional pulse of energy putting even more strain on him than before. And each quip was returned as each strike. 

It wasn’t enough, and with one hit, Regis felt himself bleed, his hand moving to his stomach. He hissed in pain, the Adagium coming to stand over him. “I swore to protect my people ...”

“Done already?” Adagium approached as Regis tried to come back to his feet. “But the fun is just beginning.”

He moved closer still, Regis pleading with the old Kings to help him. “Summon the old wall.”

“How do you know about that?” Regis finally noticed that at some point during their fight, it had started raining, a crack of thunder biting through the clouds overhead. 

A foot came up, and Regis was kicked to the ground. The pain blossomed from his wounds, draining him as Adagium spoke. “I’ve heard the souls of  _ kings _ reside within those statues. Of course that is only hearsay. Why not summon the wall so we can see for ourselves?”

Adagium stood over Regis as he spoke. Another foot came to his shoulder, forcing Regis flat on his back. “What I wouldn’t give for a chance to speak to the Founder King, himself.” 

As Adagium growled, another foot came to Regis’s chest. The pain grew, blossoming further in tendrils from the largest of wounds. Was this to be his end? 

“Come out Somnus! The longer you wait,” A foot came down on Regis’s stomach and he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold onto consciousness much longer. “The longer he’ll suffer!”

As the boot ground into the wound, black over took his vision for the second time. 

....

Regis woke with a start, breathing coming quick. He summoned his sword from the armiger, or tried to. Nothing came to his hand, as his senses slowly came to him. 

“Its okay Regis.” Clarus’s voice was strong, and Regis realized he was being carried. 

“Clarus,” Regis’s voice was scratchy, weak. “Did you get the Adagium?”

There was silence as he was placed onto his back, a soft bed. His eyes finally focused. 

“No. He got away. We still don’t know what he wanted, but it seems he may be working with the Empire. There was an assault on the wall.”

“I need to go,” Regis tried to push himself up as the vehicle they were in started to move. “I have to get the wall back up.”

“No.” Clarus pressed into one of the bruises forming on Regis’s shoulder. “You are going to the hospital. You need blood and stitches. No questions asked. We sent the Niffs running with their tails between their legs. You need rest.”

Regis laid back down shaking his head. Aulea was going to kill him, he was certain Clarus wanted to yell at him for his recklessness, and still, they had no idea what the Adagium wanted or why he was working with the Empire. 

“We’ll find him Regis. I promise.” Regis nodded to his Shield's words.. He had been right though. Clarus had come for him. Regis knew Clarus would always come for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Canon Dates:   
> Year 729 - Mors Dies, Regis is Coronated  
> Year 730? - Clarus marries Amber Lily (unconfirmed date, has to be between great war and Gladio’s birth), Cindy is born   
> Year 732 - Regis Marries Aulea   
> Year 733 - Gladio born  
> Year 734 - Ardyn Attacks Insomnia
> 
> I had a list of dates before this, but I decided at t his point to include them (I deleted the rest and don't have the energy to go back and find them). I tried to include all of these as they are important to Regis's developement and thus the development of the relationship between Regis and Clarus. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	7. The Birth of the Chosen King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Regis and wife Aulea give birth to Noctis. However, as the magic of the chosen bloodline runs through her, so does the sickness that comes with it. Only six months after one of Regis's happiest days also comes one of Regis's saddest. Clarus is there to comfort him as much as he can, but with his family growing, King Regis must find comfort where he can.

Regis paced back and forth, surprised at the fact that there was not a noticeable track from where he had spent the past several minutes. He was surprised none of the doctors or his personal Crownsguard had told him to sit down. His nerves were ablaze, waiting and waiting and waiting. 

The doors to the waiting room flew open, Cor waving off a doting nurse who was trying to clean a wound to the man’s forehead. “We came as soon as we could.”

Clarus was a step behind, another nurse trying to get the man to sit down. It was almost comical, if it wasn’t potentially serious. “Where is he?”

“What happened to you two?” Regis stepped forward, wide eyes looking from Cor to Clarus. 

“Oh, Cor crashed the Regalia on his way here.” Clarus waved away the sentence as if it meant nothing. 

“He what?” Regis looked at Cor, who was having a bandage wrapped around his head where he had likely slammed his head on the steering wheel. 

“I’m fine. I want to see your son, Regis.” Cor looked deadpan back at Regis, not even taking note to the woman fussing at the torn clothing and blood.

“I haven’t even seen my son.” Regis looked back towards the doors they had taken Aulea through. He had been waiting, knowing that there was likely complications. There always were, in their bloodline. 

Just then, the doors swung open, a doctor coming and pulling a mask from his face. “Majesty?”

Regis stepped forward, swallowing hard without looking back at the other two. “You may come see your son. Aulea is resting after her surgery.”

“She-” Regis stuttered, his lips curling into a smile. “She’s okay?” 

“Of course,” The doctor opened the doors and led them off down the wing. They were silent, the small group, as they were directed into a large room. 

Aulea was asleep on the bed, and next to her, the handmaiden was rocking a swaddled child. Regis froze, feeling his heartbeat quickly and aggressively in his chest. 

“Majesty.” The woman stood, as she attempted a bow at his presence. She moved over to him, and placed the tiny creature in his arms. 

“I,” There was a blossom of warmth in his chest as he turned, ever so slowly, to look at his two friends. “I’m a father.” 

Clarus grinned widely at him, and he felt a second, more intense warmth fill him. Cor also smiled, and he felt tears brimming on the edge of his vision.

“You are.” Clarus spoke warmly as they came to look at the bundle, the soft and small features indicating he was sleeping. “What’s his name, our little princeling here?”

“Noctis. Noctis Lucis Caelum.” Regis couldn’t help the tears, as he stared at the small life in his arms. He wanted to be the best father he could to him. 

.... 

As soon as Aulea was awake, Regis knew something was wrong. Since Aulea had been pregnant with Noctis, she had gotten sicker. The doctors had assumed that it was from her pregnancy and it would resolve when she gave birth. Regis knew that it was more than that, and so had Aulea. 

The magic from the crystal, Bahamut’s magic, was a poison to those not of the line of Lucis. There were specific instances where that wasn’t the case, but in the history of Lucian Kings, only a small handful of their Queens made it through the birth of their children. 

Aulea was sick, and she was trying to fight it. Regis would support her as best he could. Where the Astrals were concerned, no feat of modern medicine would help. It was up to Bahamut and Aulea. 

After a week, Aulea was deemed stable and they were sent home, the three of them. She was set up, a nurse on her at all times to help with Noctis and Aulea’s waning health. 

.... 

“How’s Aulea doing?” Clarus asked as one of the council chambers they had been using to have a discussion on new Kingsglaive attire began to empty. 

“She hasn’t improved. She is steadily declining. I don’t think she is going to be able to hang on for much longer.” Regis felt his skin crawl, his stomach lurking as he remained seated at the head of the room. 

“I will send Amber over. Give her some company. I have insisted she resist taking on any missions outside the city until we know what is going on inside it.” Clarus hovered at Regis’s back, uncertain if he should touch him, comfort him. 

They both longed for the contact, and Regis almost needed it now more than ever. His heart was breaking as he watched his wife wither away. 

“I think she would like that. I think she’s been lonely.” Regis looked down into his lap, letting a long sigh from his nose. 

There was a moment where there was no sound between them, the room emptying around them. Neither of them moved, and it felt as if neither was breathing.

“I don’t think she’s going to make it Clarus.” The words were barely above a whisper, but they felt like the loudest thing in the world. It was as if the last straw had been put on Regis’s shoulders. Tears flooded forth, as he crumpled down into his hands. 

Clarus moved, pulling back Regis’s chair, and pulling the man into his chest. He held tight and firm, waiting for all the sadness to come from the younger man. They stayed in place for a while, Regis finally growing still, his hands balled into the long heavy robes. 

“I can’t do this.” Regis spoke, hiccups spacing the words. 

“You can.” Clarus was still, and since Regis wasn’t fighting against the grip, he continued to hold him firm. “You knew this was a possibility. I am sorry your heart has to go through this, though.”

“I-” Regis shook his head. “I can’t take losing someone else I love.” 

The tears that had stopped were back in full. Clarus moved to place his hand in Regis’s hair. “You ain’t losing me. I’m still here. I’ll always be here for you.”

....

It took Weskham a week to arrive at the gates of Insomnia, his journey outside of Altissia intended to be short. He had some catching up to do in light of the many years that had passed. However, he had informed Regis that his restaurant would not be able to survive long without him. 

Regis had canceled all his obligations for the day that he arrived and stood in the throne room, waiting. The anxiety filled every corner of the vaulted chamber until the doors swung open. 

Regis turned, feeling happier than he had in a long time at the sight of his friend, and one time lover. “Wesk!” Regis turned, feeling like a youth again. He had almost moved down the stairs, rushing to embrace the other man. When he didn’t, pulling back instead, Weskham let out a laugh. 

“You have changed, but not enough for me not to recognize you.” Weskham moved slowly, his old injury, the one that had stranded him in Altissia, causing him to be stiffer than he used to be. For a moment, Regis’s heart ached. 

“And you are the same.” Regis did embrass Weskham as he climbed the final steps to him. They stayed locked together for a long moment, each feeling the other, their closeness that they had both missed for a long time. 

While they had sent messages back and forth for years, they spent a long time in the antechamber catching up. Regardless of the sadness clutching Regis’s heart, they laughed, and reminisced. 

It wasn't until they went up to see Aulea, that the conversation took a turn. 

“She isn’t doing well.” Regis spoke, his voice low as if this was a secret. “Her birth to Noctis has taken much of the life out of her.”

“I am sorry to hear that, my friend.” They finished the walk in silence, and when they entered, Clarus and Amber Lily were talking with Aulea, who was laying in bed. Her face was sunken in and her skin was pale. Even in the sickened state, she had an unspoken beauty about her. 

Cor held Noctis, and for the remainder of the night, they chatted about happier times. It was not like it used to be. Nothing ever would be again. Yet, it was nice. A day that could have almost been like old times, if not for the war.

....

One hundred and fifteen days after Noctis was born, Aulea lost the battle she had been fighting. Her body had lost so much strength, it was impossible to continue. The funeral had been small, according to Aulea’s last wishes. Regis had no intention of going against the desires of his late wife. 

Along with her decision to be cremated, she had also left a wish for Noctis to grow up as normal as possible. Aulea had not wanted her son to know what had happened to her. At least not the full of it. 

Regis sat in his room, stripped down to nothing more than a simple black shirt and slacks. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, body numb from the sadness. Sniffling, bright blue eyes looked down into the bassinet. 

The idea of failing this tiny life was much more terrifying than failing as King. He had this life depending on him, the last bit of Aulea he would know. “We’ll be alright, Noctis. I will make sure of it.”

~~~~

There was a sharp rapping on Regis’s chamber door. The king woke with a start, instinctually summoning a dagger. Noctis was sleeping in the small crib next to him, the noise not bothering him in the slightest. 

Regis suddenly realized how foolish it was to think that in his home there would be a threat to his life. He pushed the rapid beating of his heart down and banished the weapon away. He cleared his throat, pulling a robe from the end of his bed and wrapping it around his shoulders. 

There was another set of rapping on the door.   
  


“Coming.” Regis began, but another voice came to his ears stopping him short. 

“Regis. It’s me.” Cor’s voice was panicked, and the fact that he was supposed to be on mission right now made his appearance even more bizarre. 

Regis threw a carbuncle slipper forward, warping to the door. It opened, and Cor virtually toppled into his room. The two guards at either side of his door shrugged as the door closed behind them. For some reason they thought this was normal. 

“What is going on?” Regis stepped back, slipper fitting back onto his foot. He looked at Cor, actually looked at the man. Not only was he in rough shape, but he was carrying a large bundle in his arms. He was also drenched from the downpour outside. 

“I-” Cor cleared his throat, finally standing up straight into a more presentable posture. “I just got back from my mission.” 

Regis quirked an eyebrow at the other man, biting the comment he had for a more reasonable one. “It is late, something must be the matter for you to barge in so soon after returning home.” 

“Well,” Cor cleared his throat again, as if this would explain everything. When Regis didn’t speak, Cor’s shoulders slumped slightly. 

“The mission was a success,” He started, shifting the large bundle in his arms. “I was able to gain valuable intel on the Niflheim offensive strategy. But-” Cor trailed off, moving his free arm to the bundle as he pulled away the damp cloth. 

“But?” Regis asked, nervous to know what the bundle contained. He was curious, but the way Cor was treating the package made him uncomfortable. 

“But-” Cor finally succeeded in removing enough fabric for Regis to see what was underneath. There was a tiny freckled face and a tuft of brilliantly yellow hair visible. 

“Cor!” Regis looked up, eyes wide to meet the serious expression on Cor’s face. “Cor the Immortal, you tell me right now what an infant is doing here in my room in the middle of the night. You stole a child!”

“No. No!” Cor stood taller then, squaring off defensively. “Let me explain. Does Noctis have a spare bed I can use while I explain?”

It only took moments for them to call in one of the wet nurses and acquire a suitable sleeping situation for the child. There was no way he was any older than Noctis was, and yet it didn’t explain what Cor was doing with him. As soon as the boy was sleeping soundly, Cor began on the tale of his mission.

The mission had been straight forward. It was a highly classified reconnaissance mission, and there was always a risk when any of them went into enemy territory for long. While the Marshal was supposed to go in and find out about the Empire’s offensive strategies, his team had been found out.

The guards with Cor had been split up and he had found himself deep inside a facility where they were supposedly training new soldiers. 

“But they weren’t soldiers in the traditional sense.” Cor explained, his eyes darting to the sleeping child. “It was filled with hundreds of children, identical to him.”

Cor paused, Regis stunned into disbelief After a moment, his eyes drifted to the sleeping boy. Without Regis having to ask, Cor began to explain. 

“I don’t know. I have no idea what the Empire wants with hundreds of children. Maybe it has something to do with their new technology, but I don’t like it.” Cor looked away refusing to glance at Regis, balling his hands into tight fists on his lap. “We destroyed the lab. He’s the only survivor.”

Killing came easily to them, at least when it was someone who deserved it. Soldiers or people trying to cause them harm. Not innocents. Never innocents. Yet, Regis could see the dilemma. How innocent were they really? They couldn’t bring hundreds of potentially dangerous children into insomnia. For one, they couldn’t care for that many new mouths. Secondly, it was impossible to tell what the Empire had been using these children for. A threat? Brain washing? It was impossible to tell. 

So Cor had brought home a single child, that child. 

“What do you want to do?” Regis asked, his mouth feeling dryer than it should have. 

“I want to raise him and see if he does pose a threat. If he does, it is valuable information. If he doesn’t,” Cor paused, finally shifting to look Regis in the eyes. “We raise him as a proud citizen of Insomnia. He is only a child. Maybe that is all he’ll be.”

Regis let out a sigh. There was a sorrow in Cor’s eyes, almost regret. He couldn’t say no. “Fine, but the child is your problem. I don’t care how you do it, but you have to keep an eye on him.”

There was a small smile that cracked through the stoic mask, as Cor nodded slightly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~~~~

“Majesty.” A voice tore through Regis’s thoughts as he placed the crudely made drawing onto the table in front of him. Noctis had taken his crayons to one of his text books and had drawn him a picture of the citadel with the two of them standing out front. It had brought a smile to his face, regardless of the fact that Noctis had defaced a book to do so. 

“Yes?” Regis cleared his throat as he attempted to push the smile away. 

“The Scientias have arrived this morning with the child.” The guard wore the traditional facemask of the vanguard, the elite members that stood in Clarus’s place when Clarus was unable to be around. They also had other duties, but the safety of the King was paramount. 

“That was quick.” Regis leaned back in his chair, moving to stand and rid himself of the paperwork that had been constantly flowing onto his desk since his father’s passing. “Have them shown to the lounge. I would love to converse with them about their son.” 

“Majesty,” There was a slight stutter as the man seemed unaware of how to break some horrible news to his king. “The elder Scientias departed shortly after their arrival. Only the child remains.” 

Those words stunned Regis into place. He shook his head. “No. That can’t be right. How old is this child?”

“Six, Majesty.” 

Regis shook his head, fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. “They didn’t wish to see their son safe?”

“Their instructions, Majesty, were that if the boy was to fail in his appointed position, they did not want him back. Their exact words were,” The guard pulled something from a hidden pocket and read the words. “‘If Ignis fails, we request him to be disowned and placed for adoption.’ Majesty, it appears they do not care for the child.”

“Where is he?” Regis forced himself to push down the anger in his chest. 

“We have put him in daycare until we know what you wish for us to do with him.” 

“I will meet with him in the throne room. Inform Clarus where I am and bring him to me.” Regis began moving, thoughts rolling through his head. “Does the boy have any relatives in Insomnia?”

There was a pause. “An Uncle. He has been informed. He is under employ of the Crown. Works in finances.”

“Write in a meeting with him this afternoon, I will clear everything up, then.” Regis’s feet moved him quickly, two more guards falling in line behind as they moved through the hallways. Regis ordered one to bring him Noctis from his studies, and without any question, he fell back to do just that. 

“Give me all the information on this Ignis that we have.”

As it seemed, the Crown frequently turned to the Scientia family to raise advisors throughout history. They were a very prestigious house, although only one currently lived in the capitol. Ignis had been born solely for the future king or queen. It was strange, but their reputation was pristine and besides their odd handling of the child, their loyalty was unquestionable. 

Regis waved off the guard as he entered the throne room from the antechamber. When he entered, there was not a single soul in the room. The light was cascading in through one of the many windows. Regis wandered over to the large window overlooking the city. His sky blue eyes stared over the buildings, watching as the sun cascaded through the wall and filtered over the city. It was beautiful, and he took pride in the fact that it was still standing.

Noctis came running up to Regis while he had been absorbed in his thoughts, but he immediately smiled at his son's excitement. 

“Dad!” Noctis lifted his arms, and Regis bent over to pull him into a hug. 

“Noctis.” He shifted, bringing them up to the large window. “I saw your drawing. It was very lovely.”

Regis set him down with a hum, looking at his excitement. It was painful that he was unable to spend as much time with his son as he would wish, so these moments were precious to him. “I am going to be introducing you to a friend. His name is Ignis.”

The double doors to the throne room opened, and Regis continued to stare out at the city. He placed his hand onto his son’s, listening. Two sets of footsteps moved through the long hallway. They stopped and hushed words were exchanged. One set of feet, small and unsure, walked up the two sets of stairs before the dias. Regis let out a slow sigh, turning to see a small boy nervously shifting on the other side of the throne. 

He was so small, skinny and his thick glasses were sliding off the bridge of his nose. His mousey blond hair was flat, and emerald green eyes peeked over the top of his glasses. Although Regis could tell that this boy was scared, he was putting on a strong face. 

“Ignis, I presume?” Regis watched the small head nod. Regis took a few steps towards him, only to turn and look at Noctis who was now standing on the throne, looking up at the ceiling.

“Listen well. A King cannot lead by standing still.” Regis turns around to face the young boy. “A King pushes onward, always accepting the consequences and never looking back.”

Regis bent over, a soft smile curling his lips. “That said, a King can accept nothing without first accepting himself. Should he stand still, I ask you stand by him and lend him a hand, as his friend,”

Regis shifted backwards, opening up the space so Noctis could come forward. There was a short pause as Noctis’s shoes scraped the smooth ground. “And as his brother.”

Regis placed his hand between his son’s shoulder blades, urging him forward. “Please, take care of my son.”

The two boys stood awkwardly for a moment, Ignis being the first to move. A small hand presented itself to the prince. It seemed that for a moment, Noctis was unsure what to do with the hand. Regis held his breath, finally releasing it as Noctis clasped the hand with both of his own. A smile appeared on both the boys’ faces. 

Regis had a good feeling about this friendship.

~~~~ 

As the years passed, Regis felt the power of the Lucii drain him as he upkept the wall. Every time the Empire attacked the wall, Regis could feel it, sometimes waking with night sweats and seeking the only comfort he knew. Cor.

The Marshall was often busy, but when Regis called, he was there for him. Having lost Clarus to his wife, the silent comforts that Cor offered were the only thing that kept him grounded.

Clarus had been busy, delving into his family and work. Regis was happy for him, seeing how well he treated his wife and child. He was happy, and Regis tried to hide all the sadness welling inside him. Regis knew that Cor was trying, and that Clarus was doing his best. It just wasn’t the same, and while Regis’s chest ached for him back, he had known that they would likely never be together again. 

Clarus and Amber had their second child in the early months of March. It was with this birth that Clarus started to really shine. A little girl by the name of Iris; Regis had never understood Amber’s obsession with flowers but they did make pretty names.    
  


Clarus was always tired, and Regis noticed it early on, yet he had only seen the man this happy on few enough occasions to count on one hand. So he continued to pretend he didn’t long for him back. It wasn’t fair of Regis to expect so much from his Shield. After all, they both had jobs to do that took most of their time. 

So that was what Regis did. It was later that spring, before the land became warmer that Regis called Titus Drautos to the throne room. 

Tituts had rarely been summoned into court, the man preferring to delve into his position as the intermediary of both Clarus and Cor. It seemed that after Cor’s appointment as Marshall, Titus had been enraged, feeling as if he was better than the younger man. It was a feeling a lot of people had towards Cor, and yet time and time again Cor always came out on top. His skills were unprecedented. 

Titus moved warily to the base of the stairs, falling to one knee as his robes cascaded around him. He did look odd in his formal attire. With the man’s head bowed, Regis cleared his throat. Both Cor and Clarus stood to either side of Regis’s seat. They knew what Regis was planning. 

“Titus Drautos.” His name echoed over the walls and those gathered hushed. No one wanted to miss what the King had to say, and everyone wanted to know why Drautos was called forth.  “I am planning a project and I am hoping that you will forerunner it with me.”

From atop the throne, it was difficult to read the expression of the man bowing before him. He was unmoving, and almost breathless. 

“I am a sword to his Majesty; to be used as he sees fit.” Titus spoke, only then standing. He held a fist over his heart, with a bow of his head. 

“Tomorrow morning, meet me at the training grounds. Sunrise. I will have a group gathered and you will be debriefed then.” Regis watched as Titus turned and left the throne room. He let out a sigh, knowing Titus to be one of the most difficult and stubborn men in the entire kingdom. 

“I do hope you know what you are getting yourself into with this ‘pet’ project.” Clarus quirked a brow at Regis. 

“Of course.” And Regis knew, of all people, exactly what Titus was capable of. 

... 

Regis had found it difficult to sleep since Aulea’s death. He had not really wanted to sleep alone, and he had far too many things to do. Clarus had been at his door just as he slipped the last of his outfit on. 

“You are planning on being early?” Claurs shifted, his long robes shifting with him. 

“I would like to see the sunrise. The training grounds have a very unique view of the city.” Regis turned, a soft smile painting his features. “When was the last time you watched the sunrise?”

“Hmm,” Clarus contemplated, running a hand over his recently shaved scalp. “I think since Cape Caem.” 

Regis laughed, shaking his head. “Well, we shall watch the sun rise once more, my friend.”

They walked together in silence. They often were able to do this, the ability to communicate and find comfort without words something that came from a lifetime of friendship. The Citadel was still asleep this early, and Regis was thankful. 

The training grounds were the first place that Regis met Clarus and, standing here, that felt like it had happened in a different life. The courtyard was completely barren, the soft sound of cicadas the only noise outside the scratching of hard grass underfoot. 

The far wall of the training ground was low enough to view the city. The pre dawn light turned the city into shades of pinks and soft gray. They reached the wall just as the sun came over the horizon, changing the pallet of colors more vibrantly. The lake and forest within the walls glowed as if they were on fire, the metallic rooftops and glass windows of the high rises reflected the warm oranges and reds. There was a soft breeze moving through the world, forcing their skin to prickle as all of Eos awoke in the colors. 

There was a soft crunching of boots behind them, and neither of them moved. No one would be foolish enough to sneak up on the King and his Shield. It was likely Titus coming to meet them. After a moment, the figure of Titus came to his side. 

“It is a beautiful morning.” Regis spoke as Titus reached for the wall. The larger man’s fingers gripped it as he too took in the painting the morning had created for their eyes only. 

“For those of us that are free, it is a sight to hold dear. However, there are still those who are not.” There was no bitterness to Titus’s words. They stared, the trio in complete silence as the sun continued to climb upwards until the city was bathed in light. 

“I am glad you brought that up, my friend.” Regis moved, mirroring Titus's actions by grabbing the wall. He smiled, but dared not look at the other man. “I believe you will find my new project to your liking.”

Neither spoke, the silence stretching forward, creating a feeling of peace where there may not be any otherwise. All three of them constantly had things on their plates: meetings, paperwork, social lives. The moments of silence before the chaos of the day were precious. 

“I want you to be the first of my new project, to be its leader and form these refugees into a task force that will help us reclaim the lands that were taken from us.” Titus was listening, and if his posture hadn’t been completely erect, it was now. Regis continued, taking a few wobbling steps forward. “You will be my Kingsglaive.”

“You will have access to my magics as Clarus and my other retainers. For those that wish, they will be taught to warp, summon their weapons from my Armiger, and use magic that is reserved normally for those of the Lucian bloodline.

“I trust you.” Regis continued moving past Titus, and both he and Clarus followed in step behind, listening to the man’s words. “I believe only you can take on this important role. You have a connection with these young refugees, and you have a desire to do what is just and needed. Not a single other candidate fit as well as you.

“I would like you to meet the recruits.” They moved in from the open training field and inside through the hallways that branched off into the locker rooms. Further down the hallway they walked to a large meeting room with several benches filled with more people than Titus had been expecting. 

Upon their arrival, they all stood at attention, bringing their hands clumsily to their chest and leaning forward in bows. It was more than obvious that they had only seen this done a small handful of times, and it was amusing. 

They came to the front of the room, between two hanging TVs, and Regis raised his hands. Behind the new recruits was an exit into an open air training coliseum with a large tower at its center. 

“My new Glaives, I would like you to meet your Captain, Titus Drautos. Together we will do great things. I am confident in your abilities. I look forward to your progress.” King Regis placed his hand on Titus’s shoulder. Regis closed his eyes, and opened up the magic of the crystal to him. 

“Their uniforms will all contain a patch which will give them access to the crystal through you. We can fully debrief you later. For now, these refugees need training.” Regis released his grip on Titus and both he and Clarus left. 

The last thing that they heard before the door closed behind them were Titus speaking. “For Hearth and Home.”

~~~~

Regis had set up a royal birthday party that was to be grander than the last few he had thrown for Noctis. He had invited all the nobility to it, and Noctis had even picked the theme himself. The grand Chocobo race. 

Regis had made sure that every inch of the banquet hall was covered and he had even brought a few pedigreed birds from the royal stables just for Noctis’s amusement. Even most of the adults seemed to be entertained. 

Regis was seated in a grand chair at the front of the room, watching everyone laugh when he saw someone he hadn’t expected. Sylva Via Fleuret and Lunafreya had arrived, and after a moment, Lunafreya had run off to chat with Noctis. The small blonde girl had a package in her hands, and she happily passed it off to the birthday boy. 

Sylva, on the other hand, was headed straight for him. Regis straightened, clearing his throat as he stood, and addressed Clarus . “Do you believe you can watch over the party for a moment while I take Sylva somewhere to talk?”

“Of course, Majesty.” Clarus bowed his head slightly, moving around the chair to better see everyone as Regis moved out to meet Sylva. 

“Hello, what do we owe the honor of your visit?” Regis offered his arm to Sylva. While Regis knew who Sylva was, it was by name and picture only. While he had figured it would happen eventually, they had yet to cross paths. Regis offered his arm, and Sylva took it without hesitation, 

“I am here to speak with you about Noctis.” Sylva frowned as they walked, moving away from the crowd and children. 

“Oh?” Regis rose one brow, looking at the thin woman on his arm. “My son. Yes. Noctis is turning out to be a very fine young man, and I think he will make a splendid King.”

“That isn’t what I wanted to discuss with you.” Sylva shook her head, glancing downward for a moment. “Perhaps we can go someplace more private?”   
  


“Of course.” Regis tried to keep the confusion from his features. 

He led her out of the hall in silence, the two of them holding back their words. Regis lifted his hand, informing the guards now coming to flank him that he would be fine without them. As soon as they were alone, Sylva began to speak. 

“I am sure you have heard of the prophecy of the chosen King?” Sylva didn’t turn to look at Regis, as both of them knew the question had only one answer. 

“I have.” Regis felt the air grow cold and his skin shivered at the words. 

“Ever since my mother passed away I have found that I can interpret the words of the Astrals. I can borrow their magics and use them to heal. This is what makes an oracle of me, and my daughter will follow after me when the time is right.” Sylva stopped then, turning to face Regis. 

“Luna knows as well. Your son is the chosen King, Regis.” If Sylva hadn’t been standing there, Regis would have collapsed, fallen into a fit or screamed to the heavens at that news. Instead, he took in a slow, steady breath. 

“How do you know? Are you sure it isn’t a mistake?” Regis knew even before the words had finished leaving his lips that it was true. 

“I know because I know what my daughter will have to do to help your son achieve his destiny. It is time for us to fix the wrongs of the Astrals.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> Year 735: Noctis Born, Weskham leaves Alissia to see the new prince, Aulea dies 6 months after Noctis’s birth  
> Year 736: Cor brings 1 year old Prompto back from destruction of 1st MT Production facility, Mid/Melba Die  
> Year 738: Ignis becomes royal advisor  
> Year 741: Iris born, Kingsglaive established, Regis learns Noctis is the chosen King
> 
> The interaction between Titus and Regis was borrowed from a fiction that I did for the Drautos Zine, [The First Glaive](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25321672). I changed a little bit how everything went down, but I really enjoyed the way they interacted (and since this was done from Regis’s POV and not Titus’s POV), it does change the way it reads. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments!


	8. Time Stops for No Man (or King)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pendulum continues to swing, counting away the minutes. Noctis is growing up so fast and with the Empire ever on his tail, they must continue to watch out for the Chosen King. The fate of Eos depends on how Regis raises one small loving bundle. How can he be a good father while simultaneously keeping Insomnia safe? The scales must be balanced just so ...

Regis had felt time stop the moment he’d been told that Noctis was in danger. The intel had come mid afternoon. A large, Imperial drop ship was heading towards where Noctis and his guard were out playing. They were just outside of Insomnia, maybe by an hour. There was no time to wait. 

Regis had torn out of the Capital City, the Regalia’s tires burning out as he raced by an escort of four other cars. Never had he moved so quickly. No matter what Noctis’s fate was to be, he still and forever would be Regis’s son.

He pulled up to the point of the attack. Regis could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. He wouldn’t let Noctis go. Noctis was everything that he had left to live for. 

Was he too late? 

His surroundings were a blur as he moved from the car. One of the nearby cars was already ablaze, and there were several people laying on the ground. He ignored it, slowing his steps in an attempt to calm his nerves.

The Marilith was looming over Noctis and his caretaker. She had run from the procession of cars, no doubt trying to save the young prince's life. 

“Check for survivors.” Regis ordered the men around him as he continued to move towards the massive snake woman. Her attention had snapped to Regis. 

Wordlessly, Regis summoned the Armiger, placing himself between the daemon and Noctis. He sent the ethereal blades forward, commanding them wordlessly, though she parried his strikes with ease. She was strong. 

The beast pushed back his attacks, and Regis forced forward.  _ Noctis.  _ His thoughts pressed him onward. Each step he gained with the force of his Armiger, the Marilith retreated back one, if it could be called a step.

Regis felt the sweat on his forehead, and yet, he remained composed. They were standing on a cliff face, a fall right behind the snake woman. With one final step and exerting all the strength he could muster, the Marilith lost her balance. A blade slashed across her face as she vanished over the edge of the cliff. He could only hear the wretched creature screaming at him and cursing him for what he had done, but she was gone. 

Regis stood there for a moment, banishing the Armiger blades. When the coast was clear, the threat no longer making noise, he turned. 

He ran to the guards huddled around his son and his attendant. Noctis was covered in blood, and she was dead. Regis felt his heart beating in his throat and panic enveloping him like a thick sweater. Noctis was on the ground, staring into the starry night sky. 

“Noctis! Regis called, moving to grab at his son and trying to keep his emotions level. It was taking every ounce of willpower to not break down there . 

After a moment, Noctis not responding, Regis called at him again. “Noctis!” 

His heart fell into his stomach, storm blue eyes looking faded into nothingness. A waver fell into his voice as he pulled Noctis to him. “NOCTIS!” 

Regis stood, feeling all Noctis’s dead weight on him. He could feel Noctis’s life energy still faintly thrumming in his chest. With a breath, Regis wrapped his son in the warmth of his healing magic. A soft blue light transferred from father to son. Noctis’s life force stabilized, but Regis could tell that something was wrong. 

“We need to go.” Regis was in the car, sliding into the backseat as he waited for his driver to deliver them back to the safety of his city. 

The drive was a blur, Regis clutching onto the small body of his son like a lifeline to reality. With Noctis’s head cradled to his chest, Regis felt moisture on his face, dripping from his eyes and getting lost in his beard. 

“It will be okay, Noctis.” The words were as much for Noctis as they were for himself. Regis regretted not being able to spend more time with his son, and he knew that feeling of being in Noctis’s place. He resented his own father and hoped beyond all hopes that Noctis didn’t feel the same. 

In the span of a thought, they were back in the Capital City. Regis was sure he hadn’t breathed the entire time. They were at Insomnia Medical, and when Regis stepped out, Clarus was standing there. 

“Is the Prince alright?” Clarus’s voice was strained, the look on his face controlled. 

“He lost blood. I healed him. But he is still unconscious. I don’t know, Clarus.” Regis tried to force the waver from his voice, and was failing. Clarus was upon him now, the large steps eliminating the space between them. 

It was then that he could see the tear stains Regis hadn’t removed from his cheeks. He turned away, abashed, as a medical team came up to him. He placed Noctis down on the stretcher, and watched them take him into the building. 

Clarus hadn’t taken his eyes off of Regis. “I am sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.” 

Even though it was Noctis who was hurt, Regis understood what he meant. “You can’t be everywhere all at once.”

“I know.” Clarus was silent for a moment, his hand moving to cup Regis’s face. Regis couldn’t help but press into his touch. “I have been training my son to be the next Shield, Regis. He will be a good Shield.”

“You would damn your own son to that fate?” Regis was quiet, not moving in fear that Clarus would pull away from the touch. 

“Amicitias have a strength that are unlike any other. I am not damning my son so much as giving yours the support he will need to make the hardest decision anyone can ever expect another to make.” Clarus swallowed hard, and Regis could tell that he was holding himself back, in that moment. 

“I-” Regis pushed forward, the tears coming forward once again. “I love you.”

.... 

Noctis’s injuries had not been life threatening in themselves. However, the Marilith had given Noctis the Starscourge disease and it had started to destroy his system, beginning with his ability to walk. He would need to be put under the immediate care of the Oracle for the disease not to have permanent or life threatening consequences. 

Once Sylva received their correspondence, they left for Tenebrae. The escort was small, Regis taking five trusted guards and Clarus with him and his son. It would be easier to move through Lucis if they had a smaller retinue. 

Their arrival to Fenestala was something that Regis would never forget. The train ride had taken them through barren wasteland into a lush rainforest, the scenery changing like the turning of a page. 

They were greeted at the station by a group of Fleuret guards and were escorted through the common area up towards the floating castle. Everything was painted in shades of greens and blues. It was a startling contrast to the browns and yellows that covered most of Lucis. Even the coast was a soft sandy brown with little greenery. 

Fenestala manor was on a floating rock, open air to all sides and accessible only by a suspended bridge between a field of sylleblossoms and the entrance to the manor. 

“Welcome.” Sylva stood with her royal guard at her back, the large crown of icelike shards upon her head. Lunafreya and Ravus, the two children of the royal line, stood before her. She had a hand upon each of their shoulders as she smiled at their approach. 

Regis pushed Noctis forward in his wheelchair. He could feel Clarus’s presence at his side as they greeted. “Thank you for having us.”

“We would do anything for the Caelums. You have been long time friends and allies to Tenebrae. Your family is our family.” Sylva smiled, removing her hands from her children as she gestured towards the long bridge. “We will do our best to cure the young prince from what ails him.”

They walked across, Noctis leaning over the edge of the bridge to look at the endless drop to one side. It was more obvious here how many other land masses were similar to the one that Fenestala was built upon. These floating masses made up the many peaks along the valley and fog filled in the gaps between. It was a mysticism that was entirely unique to this place.

The inside of the manor was almost as beautiful as the exterior. Large windows filled the entry with light, cascading across the cool blues of the floors and walls. Fresh flowers filled the many vases around the foyer, and the large staircase that swung around the side of the room was flanked by sylleblossom arrangements. It gave off an air of peace and serenity. 

“Welcome to our home. It will be yours during the duration of your stay. The servants have been instructed to treat you with as much Tenebrean hospitality as they can muster. You are our honored guests.” Sylva turned, opening her arms to the room with a welcome grin. 

....

Regis sat on the balcony of the room prepared for him, staring out into the courtyard on the backside of the manor. The breeze was warm across his cool skin, and it smelled very different from his home in Lucis. It was sweet and floral like the sylleblossom and also green and wet, almost damp. It was a smell that could describe nothing else besides Tenebrae. 

There was a soft knock at the door, and Regis turned in time to see Clarus letting himself in. Regis let his shoulders fall, a tension that he didn't know he was carrying falling from his person. 

“The Prince is in healing with Sylva. She wished to start right away.” Clarus stopped a few paces away from Regis. 

“Come, Clar. I will not bite.” Regis smiled as he made room for his friend. Clarus did join him then, gripping the railing as their shoulders brushed. 

A silence that they knew well washed over them. Most of their alone time was spent this way, a silent communication. There was so much they wanted to say, yet, most of that couldn't be said, although they knew without the words being there. 

“What do we do, now?” Regis asked, finally breaking the silence to look at his Shield. “What does a King do when there is no one to govern?”

“We enjoy the first vacation we have ever been granted?” Clarus smiled, meeting his King's gaze. 

“We?” Regis laughed, bumping Clarus playfully. There was a shake of his head and a soft, light sigh. “I don’t think you get a vacation. What if-” Regis drifted off, taking in the room and gesturing to one of the vases. “What if there is an assassin hiding in the flower pot?”

“Well, Majesty-” The word was spoken with mirth behind it, Clarus bowing slightly as he turned to the other man. “I suppose I am still at your beck and call then? Aren’t I?” 

Regis shook his head, rolling his eyes as he pushed on Clarus’s shoulder, making the man stand at full attention. “Come off it. Take me to the sylleblossom fields. We can check back on Noctis before dinner.”

.... 

And they did enjoy themselves. With little responsibility, as they had received no messages from Insomnia, they had nothing but time on their hands. It was strange, as their whole life had been filled with something, council meetings, lessons, training and overseeing the training of others. While neither stopped their own training, it left a lot of time for them to explore the city and to read in the Library of the Oracle. 

It became apparent quickly that Noctis would make a full recovery from the Starscourge, but the effect it had on his body was stifling his magical flow. 

“The Lucian line has a unique connection with Bahamut and the power of the Astrals is granted to the true line of the King.” Sylva explained one night as they ate dinner. The table was set with two ends, Sylva at one head and Regis at the other.

“Yes, this is something long known by our forefathers.” Regis spoke between a mouthful of food and wine. 

“Well,” Sylva continued, swirling her own glass about, the liquid creating a whirlpool. “The Scourge in most people can be easily removed without a hindrance to their abilities. I heal them, and they continue about their regular life.”

Sylva took a moment to bring the glass to her lips, leaving the hall in silence for a moment. The sounds of forks clattering against fine porcelain was the only sound in that moment. “The Starscourge is clinging hard to Noctis’s body, as if Bahamut’s magic inside of him recognizes it. I am confident that I can remove the disease from inside Noctis, however-”

Regis had altogether stopped eating at this point, his crystal blue eyes intent on the Oracle. 

“However,” Sylva continued, “in order for Noctis to regain his magic, it may take longer. I am not promising anything either. I will do what I am able, but Noctis may never be able to use magic like you, Regis.” 

Only then did Regis peel his eyes away from Sylva. He let out a long, slow breath. “Do whatever it takes to make my son better.” 

He wanted to say that Noctis was his life, and he would do anything for him, but the words got stuck in his throat. Regis looked up from his plate of half eaten food towards the small boy pushing all the green beans to one side of the plate and going for the small steak, instead. 

When most people looked at the small dark haired boy, they saw him. When Regis looked at the boy, he saw his mother. Noctis had the same straight black hair, the same stormy eyes, and her smile. That was where it really showed. When Noctis smiled, it was the same amazing smile Aulea had. 

“Whatever is within my power, I vow.” Sylva nodded, and the conversation tapered off. 

.... 

After four months of sporadic communication between Insomnia and Tenebrae, Regis began to wonder if their communications were getting intercepted. He and Clarus decided to send one of their guards, dressed as a Tenebraean noble, back to the capitol and report back, directly to them. 

When, after a month, he hadn’t returned back, they knew that something was amiss. 

“What do we do?” Regis bit his lip, pacing the balcony of his room. “It must be the Empire. Their influence has continued to grow in my absence. Do you believe that they know I am here?”

Clarus weighed his thoughts before speaking. “I think they may know you are not home. Maybe now they know you are here. I don’t think they know Noctis is here.”

“We can’t leave, yet.” The words sounded off, more hollow than before. “Noctis still isn’t better.”

“Regis,” Clarus placed a large, firm hand on his back. “He is better than when we came. You need to think about coming home soon. How long do you intend to stay away?”

Regis shook his head, having promised himself that he wouldn’t cry. He was sad, upset, and a vast many other things as well. 

Noctis had begun to walk again, but his feet were unfamiliar with the action. Nevertheless they had been massive steps. It also seemed that Noctis had been enjoying his time with the young princess Lunafreya, and they had much to talk about. When Noctis wasn’t in his healing, he was attached to her. 

“Another month or so. Sylva believes to be onto something. I have to give my son the best chance, Clarus. You know who he is. He’ll need all the help in the world.” 

....

A month came, and Regis had to consent that Sylva had done everything she could. 

“I do believe that over a couple of years, we may be able to fix the flow of energy back through his body. In time he will be able to walk properly again. I will come visit you in Insomnia, soon.” Sylva promised, as they were gathered just as they had been upon their arrival. 

A great many water falls stood behind Sylva and her personal guard. The clearing they had picked for their final goodbyes was remote and peaceful. An ancient ruin of Solheim sat to one side of the clearing and the ancient trees reached like fingers to the sky. 

“I am happy to have you any time in Insomnia, Sylva.” Regis reached out his hand to grab for hers when he heard Lunafreya calling from behind him. 

Regis turned, seeing the Lady Luna pushing Noctis in his wheelchair across the field. The innocence of the two young children brought a smile to Regis’s face. Noctis rarely smiled like that, but Luna seemed to bring it out of him. 

Opening his mouth to speak, there was a loud humming from the sky above. Regis felt his heart stop in that moment, the sound bringing a flashback of the Great War. The same war that had taken away everything from him the first time. 

Niflheim was upon them. 

Regis’s eyes shot to the sky, seeing the Imperial dropships above. He didn’t wait, feeling Clarus at his back. As magitek troopers dropped from the sky, Regis was moving to Noctis and Luna. This was his fault. It had to be the man he’d sent as reconnaissance. 

The ground crunched underfoot as the heavily armoured drop troops fell and destroyed the land. The peaceful scenery turned to fire and death. Nobility who had come to see them off were shot where they stood, fire engulfing them. 

Regis could hear the screams, the calls for help. He could feel Clarus’s blade being pulled from the Armiger, being used to defend those who had been marked as a target by the MTs. Regis’s duty was to Noctis and the Lady Lunafreya. 

He was feet from Noctis and Luna, their eyes full of terror. Noctis reached out, but there was a shallow bite of metal into Regis back, causing him to turn and stand straight. “General Glauca!” 

Regis had heard of Niflheim’s general. The man, if he was a man at all, was a force to be reckoned with. Everywhere he went, only destruction lay in his wake. 

There was a flash from the Ring of the Lucii that Regis now wore instead of his wedding band. In a smooth movement, Regis turned, summoning his own blade from where it lay hidden. Blades clashed as he parried the much larger blade of the General. 

Two more blades joined the first, Regis set on fleeing. He would not put his son in danger. Noctis was too important. 

Regis forced Glauca to stagger backwards, summoning the whole of the Armiger. He pushed the blades outwards and forced Glauca to fly backwards across the field and into a large tree. 

“Noctis!” Regis moved, scooping his son into his arms and grabbing Luna’s hand. They ran. 

“Please help us!” Ravus turned as Regis ran past him, huddled over a figure and surrounded by flames. There was no time, and Regis had only one thought on his mind. He was to get them to safety, both of them. 

“King Regis!” 

Regis could feel the desperation in the older boy's voice, and yet, he couldn’t stop. There was too much at stake and they were outmatched. While Regis didn’t waver at the cry, Luna did. He could feel Lunafreya pulling against his hand, straining to look at her brother. 

She pulled her hand free, stopping her retreat as a dozen magitek were on their tails. 

“Lunafreya!” Regis paused, only for a moment, as he watched her being engulfed by the enemy, her white cloak disappearing behind the machinery. 

“Luna!” Noctis called, reaching and straining as if to save her himself. Regis pushed on, running as quickly as he could. There was no choice. If they stopped, they would both be killed. 

Regis ran, knowing the land better than the MT’s, and after a moment, he had lost them. Yet, there was no time to stop. He needed to get back in touch with Clarus and they needed to return home as quickly as possible. 

.... 

The train rattled on through the night, Noctis fast asleep in the top bunk of their room. Regis sat on his bunk, head in his hands and elbows digging into his knees. 

“Everywhere we turn, the Empire is there, taking everything from us.” Regis spoke, words hushed so as to not be overheard. 

“We knew something was wrong. We should have acted much sooner than we did. You couldn’t have known.” Clarus spoke, wrapping his arm around Regis’s shoulder. 

“I will not let them have Noctis.” Regis said, his voice cracking as he felt the tears threaten once again. Every time he was with Clarus, he felt he was able to let down the face he had to put on. The face for his son, the face for his people. The King was supposed to be an immovable mountain, but in reality, he was crumbling on the inside. 

“I will not allow them to take anything more from you Regis.” Clarus shifted, and pulled his friend into his chest. 

“Sylva is dead.” Clarus spoke after a moment, letting Regis fall into him. 

“I know.” Regis’s voice was tear strained, sniffling as he shifted. “They have Lunafreya and Ravus as well. I almost saved Lunafreya, but she stopped. For her brother. She knew she was going to be safe.”

“We will save her. Somehow. Someway.” Clarus vowed with a nod. 

.... 

They managed to find their way through Lucis, Cor meeting them in Lestallum. He had booked them a room, and had been waiting for them inside. 

Cor sat in one of the arm chairs in the room, his katana in hand as if he had been expecting an ambush. The moment the door opened he stood, weapon clutched. When he saw it was only them, he banished the blade and took several steps forward. 

“Regis,” He placed his hand over his chest, bowing slightly. “I’m glad you are alright.”

Regis shook his head, shifting Noctis’s sleeping form slightly as he looked at Clarus and back to Cor. “We are alive. Alright? That has yet to be seen.”

Cor diverted his eyes. “I have news I need to tell you.” Regis knew there was bad news on his tongue. As if he was being proven correct, Cor pushed on. 

“Clarus.” The younger man looked up and there was sadness in the ice blue eyes. “Amber went on a mission, leading a large battalion back to Galahd. She-” Cor took a breath, pulling something from his pocket and handing it to Clarus. It was a set of dog tags. 

“She didn’t make it home.” 

The world seemed to have flipped on its head; the domino pieces of fate falling uncontrollably. Regis felt himself move back to Clarus. He wasn’t sure when Cor had taken Noctis, but he found himself empty handed. 

Clarus seemed utterly dumbfounded. His eyes stared through Cor, his body still as he shook his head. “No. It- she just.” 

Clarus looked down into his hands, the tags gripped tightly as Regis placed his hand on his bicep. “When?”

“Few weeks ago.” Cor answered without hesitation. He shifted, Noctis still sound asleep. 

“I-” Clarus’s body shuddered as if he finally was acknowledging what Cor was saying. “I should have been there. I shouldn’t have left her alone with everything. It-”

“Your duty is to Regis first.” Cor interrupted, speaking before anyone else could say it. “If you hadn’t been in Tenebrae, Regis and Noctis would have been in danger. Amber made her own choices. She went on the mission, knowing the risks. It isn’t your fault.” 

“Clarus, I-” Regis tried, but his own heart was breaking for Clarus. As he had loved Aulea, so had Clarus loved Amber. 

“Gladiolus? Iris? How are they taking it?” Clarus’s voice was quiet as he put on the face he did to keep himself from breaking. 

“I’m not sure Iris understands. She is young. Gladiolus has locked himself in his room. He is angry.” Cor said, a sigh pressing through his lips. 

“We’ll be home soon. We can pick up the pieces, then.” Regis nodded, pulling Clarus into the room. Whatever was to happen next, they would face it together. 

~~~~

There was a soft groaning from the mattress as Regis shifted into Clarus’s body. While their bodies were still covered in sweat, they had pulled themselves under the covers. There was a need to touch, to feel each other. 

They had fallen back together easily, as if they had never been apart. Once Clarus had finished mourning Amber’s passing, he had come to Regis’s bed seeking comfort in the familiar and forgotten. It had happened a month after they had had Amber's funeral. 

Now, they were balancing three children and their responsibilities. Every day became easier, the past was still there, and the future was uncertain, but the present was something they had a say in. If they were destined to watch Noctis become the Chosen King, at least in this moment, they would be happy. 

“Tomorrow Gladiolus will begin training with my son.” Regis said, tilting his head up to attempt to catch the other man’s face. “Is he ready?”

Clarus hummed, and tightened his grip around Regis’s chest. “He knows what is expected of him. He has trained with other young men. He knows what he must do, but I am uncertain if he will ever truly be ready to start unless we make him.”

There was a pause, words hanging unsaid. Regis waited, feeling sleep pulling at him. Yet he fought it, weakly. 

“Did I ever tell you how nervous I was that day when we started our training? All those years ago?” Clarus chuckled softly, his whole body rocking them. 

“You? Nervous?” Regis smiled, his eyes drooping as he hung off every word. “I don’t believe it.”

“I thought you would hate me.” Clarus continued, sleep dripping from his voice. “My father had been talking me up, giving me the courage to face you.

“‘You will be a great Shield. You are a good warrior. Show him what you are made of now, and you will have a friend for life.’” Clarus spoke in a voice, deeper in mimicking his father’s voice. “So my goal was to kick your ass, so you wouldn’t ever want to get rid of me.”

Clarus yawned, as they were both on the verge of unconsciousness. “I am glad you never wished to see me gone. I wouldn’t know what my life would be without you.”

“Me too.” The words were barely a whisper as they fell into a deep slumber. 

~~~~ 

Behind the magical walls of Insomnia, time went by. Young birthdays passed while both Regis and Clarus watched. Insomnia had entered a time of feigned peace, the wall keeping away the Empire. While the citizens continued living, the war beyond the wall continued.

More regions fell, keeping Regis busy as he plotted the continued protection and survival of the last bastion against Niflheim. The Crownsguard became a force for the people of Lucis while the ever growing Kingsglaive were a military force that continued to fight to eventually regain their lands. 

Regis shifted in the sheets, feeling the warm bodies beside him. It was in these early morning moments where Regis felt almost like he wasn’t the King. The sheets were warmed, the cool summer air that whisked in through the window smelled like sweet cooking bread. It was a moment of calm, something that he rarely had any more. 

Beside him, he felt one body breathing heavily. Clarus was still deeply holding onto the last remnants of sleep. Without opening his eyes, Regis could feel the soft rising and falling of his Shield’s chest. The sound and feeling was pulling Regis back under, sleep threatening to claim him once more. 

That was until Cor started to stir on Regis’s other side. The sun was rising, which meant the most disciplined man in all of Eos would rise, too. 

The bed creaked and shifted as Cor moved from the bed, and slipped into a pair of pants. By the time he had made it to the window, he had his shirts on. Light suddenly flared in the room as the curtains were flung open. 

Regis groaned, pulling under the covers and pressing into Clarus’s bare chest. 

“Up.” Cor spoke, his voice now closer than the window. “Clarus, you need to make it home to see your children off for their first day of classes. Regis, you have a meeting about sending an envoy to Tenebrae to celebrate Lady Lunafreya becoming the next Oracle in an hour.” 

This was the moment where the reality of who he was became real. The life he could have had in his dreams disappearing in an instant. 

The sheets were pulled hard from the foot of the bed, and the two men were found huddling together against the unwelcome sunlight. 

“If you don’t find your feet on your own, I will get the bucket.” Cor smirked, shifting back on one hip, waiting. 

Regis sat up slowly, narrowing his eyes at the younger man. “You wouldn’t.” 

Cor chuckled, and reached his hand out to the side. He summoned a simple wooden pail, raising one eyebrow as he watched Regis’s eyes focus on the object. “I have, and I will.” 

Clarus was sitting now, yawning widely. “We’re up, Leonis.”

Even still, these moments were the few he lived for. His Clarus. His Cor. The moments that Noctis succeeded. These were the happiest moments of his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:   
> Year 744 - Marilith attack, Go to Tenbrea for Starscourge, Niffelheim attacks Tenbrea (Noctis stays for 6sih months of treatment)  
> Year 745 - Noct & Gladio start training   
> Year 748 - Noctis meets Prompto, Luna becomes Oracle  
> Year 749 - Talcott born, Ignis starts CG training @15 
> 
> Ugh, so much drama! At this point I really began to feel how tragic Regis's life was. Even without shipping RegClar, I feel so bad for everything Regis had to do. There was no way to win! T.T
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	9. The Last of the Happy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their wives gone, Regis and Clarus fall into each other once more. King Regis is fully aware what he must do, which makes the coming days biter sweet. He will hold onto each happy moment as he plans what must be done. He loves Aulea still, but his heart has always belonged to Clarus. 
> 
> And the heart beats on and on and on ...

Regis moved slowly down the hallway, cane in his left hand. His right knee was braced tightly, making the limp seem less pronounced. The past couple of years had begun to take its toll on Regis, the power of the crystal feeding on his livelihood. 

Pausing, Regis glanced at the small mirror placed between two braziers. It was getting more difficult for Regis to recognize himself. While the faces of those around him were changing slowly, his own was almost unrecognizable from day to day. Minute by minute, Regis felt his face becoming more similar to his father's. 

White and gray predominated his once midnight black hair. Even this alone gave the appearance of a much older man. Yet, it was the scarring and creasing of his face that bothered him more than anything. The scars were an effigy of the crown he wore constantly. The skin on his face was beginning to sag, no longer tight along his features. His beard, once trimmed and neat, grew longer and more distinct. 

“Is something wrong, Regis?” Clarus spoke, moving from his place a step behind to come even with his King. 

“I am getting old, Clarus.” Regis gripped the cane tightly, feeling a frustration building up inside him. “Noctis’s birthday is today. He is moving into his new apartment after his party this afternoon.”

Clarus placed his hand on Regis’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “He will be safe there. Both Ignis and Gladiolus are nearby. Neither would let anything happen to him. They care about him, greatly.”

Regis shook his head, stepping forward as he removed his attention from the mirror. “I am less worried about Noctis than I am about what one does with, what do they call it? An ‘empty nest’? Noctis is so very important to me, and yet I believe he thinks I don’t care about him at all.” 

There was no excuse for Regis’s many absences from Noctis’s life while growing up. Every time he had planned something for them to do together, they were waylaid by kingly duties, and Regis was rendered incapable of fulfilling his obligations to Noctis. It was more than frustrating as Regis had to take a back seat in his own son's development. 

“I don’t think he believes that.” Clarus easily kept pace with Regis as they headed towards the throne room. “I think there is some resentment from him about your absence in his life, yes. Do I believe he holds the same resentment that you once held for Mors? No. Isn’t really the same, if you ask me.”

Clarus chuckled, placing a hand on the man’s back. 

“Yes, Clarus. You have never been afraid to express your opinions with me. It is one of the things I love about you.” Regis smirked, looking over his shoulder at his Shield. 

Regis pressed open the doors to the throne room, and the duo entered in silence. The room was empty, and thus every step against the hard marble floor echoed high into the pitched ceiling. The cane made a distinctive clink with every other step, which created an odd feeling of dissonance in the large room. 

“I wish to give Noctis his gift now, before his party.” Regis began to climb the stairs, feeling the need to utilize his cane more than he had previously. 

“I think he will like the gift. Truly.” 

After climbing the two sets of steps, Regis found he was more exhausted than he should have been. The throne accepted him as he collapsed upon it. “You would think I am as old as I look!” Regis laughed, the noise filling the air as Clarus let a few chuckles free. 

“Well, neither of us  _ are _ as youthful as we once were, this is true.” Clarus took a standing place next to Regis on the throne, his long robes swaying around him as he crossed his arms behind his back. 

“I blame having kids.” Regis glanced beside him, seeing the smirk firmly placed on Clarus’s lips. 

“On the contrary, my children are both angels.” 

“Oh, Noctis is  _ mostly _ a good kid. Until he gets into qualms with his tutors or refuses to eat his vegetables. I never did understand why that boy hates his greens so much.” Regis shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position for his knee to rest. 

“Well, I suppose Gladiolus does enjoy a good tussle with the other boys, but can you blame him? He is such a large boy and that energy needs to be siphoned out, somehow.” 

“He is a handsome boy, that is certain.” Regis nodded, thinking on how their sons had started growing together just as they had. “I do think they work well together. Do you not agree?”

Clarus hummed, the moments stretching on in thought. “You know, I do think they are getting along just as we did at that age. They’ll be getting into a good deal of trouble soon, unless I am greatly mistaken.”

“Let us hope Eos can contain them, then.”

At that moment, the doors to the throne room were tossed lazily open and Noctis entered, followed by Gladiolus and an older Crownsguard. Regis felt himself sitting straighter in his seat, eyes watching as the two young boys walked the length of the room to stop right before the steps. 

“You wanted to see me?” The words tumbled from Noctis’s lips more so than were spoken. 

Regis let his eyes linger on his son for a long moment. Noctis was scraggly, the growth spurts having left him in an awkward, lanky phase. His black hair, almost exactly like Regis’s in his youth, was unkept and messily perched atop his head. He wore the traditional colors of the Lucian nobility, black and gold with the same skull motif that signified his status. 

“I did.” Regis cleared his voice, beckoning Noctis forward. “I have something I wanted to give you now instead of later, at your party.”

Noctis moved wordlessly up the steps, though Gladiolus remained, his hands crossed respectfully behind his back. It didn’t take Noctis long to ascend, far quicker than Regis himself had been able to, despite the similar telltale pause as his left foot landed. 

As Noctis moved towards them, Regis summoned a package from the Armiger. The long rectangular box was wrapped in deep blue paper and there was a comically large bow on the top, silver and black. Regis shifted, handing the gift to his son. Noctis staggered at the heft of the package, obviously not being prepared for the sheer weight of it.

The paper went into a neat pile under him, Noctis sitting cross legged at Regis’s feet. With the paper and bow discarded, Noctis lifted the lid of the box to see a blade resting within. The sword was simple on the blades design, but everything from the guard to the peen was complex and mechanical. 

Noctis’s eyes, which had been dull and almost bored, lit up with an excitement that Regis rarely got to see in his son. Daring a glance up at Clarus, Regis found that he was smiling down at the Prince. 

“Dad. I-” Noctis’s fingers traced the many cogs and parts of the guard as if touching them would make it more real. “This is for me?”

Regis smiled, feeling a simple innocence fill him. “Yes, son. You are old enough to have a weapon of your own. I have heard that you enjoy swords, so I had this one custom made for you.”

Noctis was silent for a moment, his fingers tracing and retracing the blade. 

“What is it called?” Storm blue eyes, the eyes that threw Regis for a loop every time as the last living remnant of Aulea, stared up at him. 

“The Engine blade.”

~~~~

Hundreds of people packed into the large hall of the throne room as well as three sets of camera men, capturing every angle of the ceremony that was currently taking place. It was a momentous day that the younger generation had been preparing for. Gladiolus, one of the youngest Crownsguard in history, had finally finished his training to be the sworn Shield of the Prince of Lucis. And Ignis, future advisor to the Prince, had completed his Crownsguard training. 

While there were others who had also finished their training, those two names filled Regis with pride. He knew that Clarus was alight with his son's achievements. From what the man had told him, Gladio had been working hard to beat his father to the youngest Shield, and after today, he would have succeeded. 

The names of the new guards were called, and Regis summoned each of them to him. They ascended the steps, stopping to kneel before him, Clarus at his back. The camera men snapped pictures as the same words were repeated. 

_ “I am a sword and shield to my King and his people. To protect his Majesty, I give my life to serve.”  _

_ “By my power as the King of Lucis, I hereby grant you my power and authority. Go forth with the grace of the Astrals.” _

Fifteen guards were inducted, receiving a tap on the shoulder with Regis’s blade. Once he was finished with them, they stood and received a pin and papers from Clarus. Then, they exited off to the side through the antechamber. For many of them, this was a glorious day. Those who remained after looked both nervous and excited. However, neither Ignis nor Gladio seemed to change their calm expressions. They had, after all, been trained from a young age for this moment. 

_ “ _ Ignis Scientia.” The words were spoken clearly and echoed around the chamber. There was murmuring as the man, dressed in his fine Crownsguard formal attire, ascended the steps and kneeled gracefully before them. 

“Today, you are sworn into service to Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum. You are to be assigned to serve him as you would serve me.” Regis raised his hand, summoning his son forward from the place he had sat beside the throne. 

In the moments that passed, Regis could feel his son’s nerves. Regis stepped aside, and allowed Noctis to take center stage. This moment had been practiced and rehearsed, but it was now out of his hands. This was important for Noctis to do. 

“I am sworn shield and sword to my prince.” Ignis spoke the words, his head lowered but his voice carried through the room easily. “His life and growth, I treat as my own. To guide him into Kingship is my duty and to advise him with my wisdom.”

Noctis reached out from his side, summoning the Engine Blade from the Armiger. This caused another stirring from the crowd and the cameras snapped, excitedly. 

“By my power as the Prince of Lucis, I grant you position at my side.” Regis watched as Noctis spoke and lowered the sword gently onto Ignis’s shoulders, continuing his speech. “With the grace of the Astrals may you be filled with wisdom and strength to guide me.”

When Noctis was finished with his words, The Engine Blade vanished and Ignis stood. There was a faint curling to his lips, as he brought his hand across his chest and bowed slightly to Regis. As the others before him, Ignis moved to Clarus, who handed him a pin and papers. 

He too moved off to the side, however, instead of leaving the room, he turned right outside the door to the antechamber, and waited for what was coming next. 

Now it was Clarus’s turn, and the only person remaining in the empty space at the center of the throne room was Gladiolus. The Shield of the Prince would be last and most important, still. 

“Gladiolus Amicitia.” Clarus spoke, stirring his son from his perfect vigil. Without a second of hesitation, he moved, taking the steps quickly but without haste. As the others had, Gladio moved to one knee before his father, head bowed and expectant. 

“A King’s Shield must be strong, unwavering and determined.” Clarus spoke these words not only to Gladio but also to those who were watching, their breaths held for the words that were yet to come. “A King’s Shield must also be gentle and kind, willing to work for the people while still being able to protect his charge. We are the last defense to our liege and to be ready to sacrifice ourselves for the good of Lucis.” 

“I am ready.” Gladio spoke, tilting his head up, and looking into his father’s eyes. There was a look that passed between them, and Regis could see Clarus’s pride radiating off of him. It warmed him. 

Noctis now stepped forward, and placed his hand on Gladio’s shoulder. He nodded, smiling for the first time and looking back to Clarus. “I accept Gladiolus as my Shield and protector.”

“Gladiolus.” Clarus pulled his sword from beneath his robes, and placed it on the opposite shoulder to Noctis’s hand. “It is with the authority of the Astrals, as Captain of the Crownsguard and Shield of King Regis Lucis Caelum that I pronounce you Shield of Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum and second in command of the Crownsgaurd.

“Stand, my son.” Clarus removed the sword just as Noctis removed his hand and Gladio stood. 

Now, there was a smile on the man’s face as he looked at his father. 

“Go forth with the grace of the Astrals.”

  
  


~~~~

Regis felt his heart hammer in his chest as his feet carried him into the royal wing at the hospital. A Crownsguard appeared at his side breathlessly as he spoke two words: 

“Room 421.” 

Regis’s eyes flicked to the room numbers, watching as they increased. When the room in question came up Regis walked through, without a knock. 

The room held one Gladiolus Amicitia, sitting in bed with bandages thick on his face. Clarus was sitting in a chair, and popped up at seeing Regis burst into the room. At the sick bed, Noctis and Prompto were looking worried and sleepy. Ignis was the last that Regis recognized, standing in a corner with his arms crossed a worried look knit on his face. 

In the heartbeat of a moment that Regis was able to take in the room, he realized that he looked rather unkingly. Immediately he straightened himself, gripping the cane in his hand with a slow breath. 

“I heard about what happened.” Regis walked up to the bed, placing a hand on Gladio’s leg, hidden beneath the white sheets. “I am glad you were with my son. I am sure your father is proud.”

Clarus was at Regis’s side, a small nod from the bald man before he placed his hand on Regis’s shoulder. “A word if you don’t mind, Majesty.”

Regis nodded, and together they left the room. It was only then that Regis noticed that there were two rather shaken looking Crownsguard standing at attention on either side of the door. In his panic, he had overlooked them. 

Clarus walked them a short way down the hall into a waiting room. It was with the door closed and Regis’s personal guards on the door, that Clarus finally collapsed into one of the plush couches spread in the room. Being a private ward, they were alone. 

Regis moved to Clarus, and wrapped an arm around him. “I came as soon as I was able to.” 

“I was so scared, Regis. I thought something terrible had happened to my boy. I don’t know what I would have done if-” Clarus shook his head, removing his brow from his hand. 

“Tell me what happened. Tell me everything.” Regis spoke calmly and waited for Clarus to be ready. When he was, he told him everything that Gladiolus had shared with them, and even some snippets from what the other three boys had seen. 

A man had approached them outside of a bar, and had started yelling and harassing Noctis. They were attempting to disengage when the man pulled out a knife. No matter how bad the words were used against Noctis, Gladio never raised his hand against him. Even when he stepped between Noctis and the blade. He simply restrained him and waited for the Crownsguard to arrive and arrest him. Even bleeding from the wound, he had been a true Shield. 

“And his eye?” Regis hadn't spoken much during the whole story, but this was something that was important. 

“The doctor believes he will not lose his sight. The weapon went from cheek to cheekbone, and skipped to his brow.” Clarus’s words were stiff, but Regis relaxed next to him. 

“That is excellent news, Clarus.” Regis pulled tight around the Shield's shoulders, bringing them tighter together. 

“Yeah, but he will be scarred for life.” Clarus grimaced, a sigh moving his body. 

“And when have you been afraid of a little scar?” Regis chuckled, tracing a scar through the man’s thick robes. After all, he knew where every bump and scratch was on the man’s body. 

“But he’s my litle boy.” Clarus spoke as if this changed absolutely everything. 

“If you were to ask him, I am sure that scar is a mark of pride. If he is even half the man you are, saving his Prince’s life is an honor and being able to show it off will prove what he’s survived.” Regis’s free hand moved to Clarus’s chin, and he shifted to look at his lover. 

“I-” Clarus attempted to protest, but that was until Regis pressed his lips into the complaint. 

“You know,” Regis chuckled, pulling away. “This isn’t even half as scary as when Noctis started to learn to drive. I feared that he would single handedly take out the entirety of Insomnia.” 

Now, even Clarus let a low chuckle from his lips. “I remember that. I thought Noctis would put you into an early grave.”

“Yes, and honestly he isn’t even a top notch driver, now. I suppose he is better. Thank the Astrals that he has someone to drive him around most of the time.” Regis laughed, feeling the tension in the room lessening by the second. 

“Yes. Gladio isn’t keen on driving much, although he is not bad at it.” Clarus sat up, finally feeling less stressed than he had before. “Thank you for coming, Regis.”

“Of course. I would do anything for you, you know that.” Regis let his hand drop from the other man’s chin and let it rest atop Clarus’s idle hand. 

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:   
> Year 751: Noctis enters HS moves out gets engine blade as birthday gift, Gladio inaugurated into CG  
> Year 752: Ignis sworn in CG, Gladio becomes Shield  
> Year 754: Gladio gets Scar  
> Year 755: Noctis gets his first car
> 
> I just need to take a moment to cry. It is so hard to write this, but it had to be perfect. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It gets harder from here on. If that is possible. 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	10. Niflheim Treaty Signing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for the final decision. Will it bring peace? Regis is doubtful, but he presses on. The decision that will save all of Eos is not easy. Not just to save his son, but everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a hash up of the movie Kingsglaive, so if you haven't watched it, I WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND! If you have watched it, I hope I did it justice! It was not easy capturing the feeling

The throne room was full, the council on either side of the steps. All eyes were glued to Titus, kneeling as he gave his full report of his latest mission.

“Retreat?” The word sounded odd as it echoed through the room. 

“Yes, your Majesty. Despite their victory being all but assured.” Titus's words were steady and cool.

“A sudden and inexplicable retreat.” This didn’t seem right, and even the words sat funny in Regis’s mouth. 

“We are at risk, nonetheless, your Majesty.” Clarus spoke up, some of the councilmen reacting and staring at the Shield. “We cannot know when they will strike again.” 

The truth in the words resonated in the high chamber, but not before the echoing sound of hard heels on polished floors came to them. 

“Your Majesty.” One of the many attendants of the Citadel panted, his tone almost panicked. “Word from the West Gate. A man claiming to be an envoy of the Empire requests an audience.” 

_ Curious. _ Regis nodded slowly, feeling that the reason for Niflheim retreat was very likely about to be revealed. 

“Bring him to me.” Regis commanded, releasing Titus from his prostration. 

They waited, the moments ticking by in a humming silence. No one dared make a noise, breath caught in their throats. The doors to the Throne room remained closed. Until-

“The envoy from Niflheim awaits without, Your Majesty.” 

Regis raised his hand, and the two Crownsguard that had been waiting moved to open the doors. Electricity sparked in the room at the movement, and everyone sat up straighter in their seats. The doors opened with an echo as-

“Hello there,” The voice was familiar, as if it had been from a long forgotten dream. Two guards escorted the man, but even their weapons didn’t phase him. Regis shifted until his back was rigid, recognition of the man...adagium, pulsing through his core. 

“Hello! Good day to you!” The adagium spoke, and Regis knew that they were in more danger at accepting the request of the envoy than he could possibly have realized. 

“And you,” The man flamboyantly gestured to the council members. “Well met, my dear Lucians.”

“Has Niflheim grown so bold that they send the chancellor himself as envoy?” The room was tense as Regis spoke. “And under no guard, at that.” 

“It is an honor to be recognized by the  _ great _ King Regis,” Every step was purposeful, an act of prolonged entertainment to the man. “Yet, permit me to stand on ceremony and introduce myself, nonetheless.

“Ardyn Izunia.” A partial truth. “Chancellor of Niflheim,” his eyes wandered the room, a smirk on his unshaven face. Fingers reached for the ludicrous hat atop his head, the gesture large and bold. In one fluid motion, he was bowing, “At your humble service.

“And I come to you on this most auspicious day to offer terms of peace.” Ardyn once again glanced about the room, gauging the reactions of the council members. 

“Peace?” The mostly flat tone came out, almost in surprise to Regis himself. This whole scene was a spectacle. 

“As you no doubt surmised, that  _ recent  _ maneuver of ours was no strategic retreat. Call it,” While Ardyn had been pacing before, now, a single polished shoe hit the first step up to Regis. The entire council stirred, tensing at the affront to their King. “A gesture of Imperial goodwill.”   
  


After the briefest of moments, Ardyn continued up. It was as if he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. “Like you, we wish nothing more than to bring a swift end to this,” again pausing in his ascent up the steps, Ardyn gestured with his hands as if searching for the words, “senseless war.”

“Is that so?” Skepticism was thickly coursing through Regis’s veins. 

“It is, indeed! And we require but a singular compliance.” Cocky as he was, Ardyn was heavy in his steps as he approached. “Save your grand Insomnia here. Lucis must forfeit all territories to Niflheim rule.” 

The council shifted again, all eyes on Regis. Ardyn reached the upper platform and looked to each of them, facing his back to the King. Regis lifted his hands, recognizing the council's complaints and silencing them. 

“Ah, Insomnia. The jewel in the crown of the Lucian Kingdom.” Ardyn spun, arms raised up as his eyes fell upon Regis once more. “How foolish of me to forget. There is just,  _ one _ more trivial thing.” 

_ I doubt you have ever forgotten a single thing in your life. _

“It concerns your son.” Ardyn’s words stirred Regis from his place. “The fetching Prince Noctis of Lucis and the fair Princess Lunafreya of Tenebrae; they are to be wed.” As if comically so, Ardyn’s two pointer fingers come together at the words. 

Regis knit his brow together, sitting straighter still as he looked down at the clown in his throne room. 

“You seem vexed, Your Highness. I assure you the princess still holds you in the highest regard. As she has done all these twelve long years.”

~~~~

Regis was seeing a lot of Titus on his knees as of late. He had summoned him to the back chamber behind the throne room to give him orders, and he had immediately shown obeisance by taking a knee. 

“Stand.” Regis let a slow breath press from his lips as he watched his friend stand. While the man was always distant, Regis assumed it was just how he was with everyone. Titus had few friends as far as the King could tell. 

“You wished to speak with me?” Titus straightened himself, meeting Regis’s gaze. 

“Yes.” Regis gestured towards the desk at the back of the room, and together they walked to it. “I have a mission. I need one of your Glaives to be dispatched on an extremely secretive mission.”

Regis reached for the manila folder and passed it to the Captain. He waited as Titus opened the file and read, flipping through the pages. Once the man was finished he looked at Regis. 

“I know the perfect Glaive.” Drautos spoke, with just the slightest moment of hesitation. “I will brief her this afternoon.”

“This mission is of utmost importance.” 

“I will make sure the Lady Lunafreya is retrieved from Niflheim without a hitch.”

~~~~

Regis sat on his throne, a tight knot building ever since the adagium had shown up on his doorstep. There were so many things swimming around in his head, and the first was that he needed to tell Noctis what was to happen to him. Swallowing hard, he bent over, covering his face with his hands. 

“It will be alright.” Clarus spoke, the words hanging heavy in the air. 

“I know this is not what Noctis wants.” Regis sat up, brushing a tear from his own eyes as he cleared his throat. “This is not what I wished for my son.”

“You are doing what you must.” Clarus stepped away, staring off towards the side of the room, looking out the large window into the courtyard outside. 

“He will hate me for this, if he doesn’t already hate me.” Regis gripped his walking staff, moving to stand. 

“He doesn’t hate you, Regis.” 

“How can you be certain? If this develops how I believe it will-” standing fully, Regis stepped weakly towards his Shield, “he will remember me sending him away like this and nothing more.”

Skin prickling with the sadness, Regis stepped into the sunlight besides Clarus. They stood there, silently watching as the prince’s car pulled up to the main steps of the Citadel. 

“If your son sees that of you, what will Gladiolus think when we send them away?”

Outside, they watched as Noctis and Gladio filed from the car. They walked together, like brothers. Regis could feel that in that moment they would both be alright. 

“Hopefully you are correct, and they do not blame us.” Shaking his head, Regis returned to the throne. 

It wasn’t long before Noctis was being led into the room, Gladio taking his place only a few steps behind him. Regis steeled himself to the words he needed to say. With the decision having been made only hours prior, it had to be now. 

“You wanted to see me?” Noctis strode to the bottom of the first step, looking up at his father. 

“I did. I summoned you both to inform you of the council’s decision. I am sure you are aware of Chancellor Izunia bringing talks of a peace treaty?” There was a look from Noctis to Gladio, but Regis didn’t pause long. If he was correct, Ignis had informed them of the unexpected entrance. 

“I have decided that it is best to bring an end to this war. I will be signing the peace treaty proposed to us, and Insomnia will be placed as a separate independent governance of the Lucis Monarch. There is one condition to this armistice.” Regis could feel the lump in his chest jump high, making it hard to speak and breath. This was not the time to clam up. The decision was to get Noctis as far away from the capitol as possible before the Niflheim delegates arrived. 

“The condition is that you and Princess Lunafreya be wed. The final olive branch in the long diplomatic battle we have been engaged in for decades.” Regis spoke even as Noctis wavered in his straight-backed stance. 

“What?” The words were little more than a whisper, but the acoustics of the room meant that they carried without effort. “I haven’t seen Luna in-”

“Twelve years. This is correct. For both your safety, this was the only way to guarantee peace.” Regis could feel the pressure in his chest tightening, knowing that this was merely the first step that Noctis was destined to take as the chosen King.

Where had the time gone? Regis had tried to take in every moment of Noctis’s childhood, and yet, here he stood, fully grown. He was still so young. It was too early, but time stood still for no man. 

“When?” The words were gritted out, the anger that was bubbling under the surface peeking out in the sharpness of the syllables. 

“You are to leave the capitol with a retinue of three others in a few days time. Gladiolus Amicitia,” Clarus stirred at Regis’s words, but he pressed on anyway. “Ignis Scientia and Prompto Argentum will be accompanying you to Altissia. Lady Lunafreya will be waiting for your arrival.” 

Noctis’s face tightening, the emotions he was feeling bottled tightly. It made Regis’s already wounded heart ache more. The prince bowed, spitting words like arrows, “As you wish, your Majesty.” before turning on his heel and exiting the room as quickly as he dared without breaking into a run. 

The moment the door closed behind him, Regis collapsed into his hands. Tears burned freely down his face as Clarus came to his side. Wrapping his arms around Regis’s chest, Clarus held him tightly. Whether Noctis would forever hate him or not, there was nothing he could do now. Their fates were sealed. 

.... 

As soon as Regis had been able to compose himself, he had called for a regrouping of the top council members to escort him to his next meeting. Plans were in motion in preparation of Noctis’s departure and the arrival of the Empire’s delegates. 

Regis walked quickly, ignoring the pain in his knee. He turned to one of his councilmen by the name of Radcliff. 

“It is said sentiment between the people is favorable, your Majesty.” Radcliff was currently walking just a pace off to one side of Regis, Clarus solidly on his other side. “Most all will welcome this peace.”

“If you yourself have not heard their voices, how can you know their hearts?” Regis glanced sideways, seeing how the councilman shirked back from the words. 

“What of the mission to Tenebrae?” One of the other councilmen had stepped forward, and Regis cursed whomever had let the secret mission reach the ears of the council. “Is such clandestine action wise? If discovered it will only serve to provoke them.”

“The Empire remains our enemy until the treaty is signed.” Clarus was quick to support Regis. “So long as we are at war, his Majesty intends to stay one step ahead of them.” 

“Of course,” Councilmen Armond bowed his head, falling back to speak quickly with the other three following them. 

Regis let out a sigh, glancing at Clarus with a weak smile, before pressing their way into a council chamber.

Each step forward weighed heavier on them as they prepared for what they must do and what was coming at them all quicker than anyone could stop.

~~~~

Regis had been spending a lot of time in the throne room as of late. It was one of the only places that he could retreat to and be left mostly alone. There were so many thoughts rolling around in his head, and with Noctis gone, there were now more pressing things to worry about. 

It was three days until the signing ceremony, and while he had forbidden that knowledge to be known by Noctis and his friends, it had been set in stone long before they had left. The less they knew, the safer they would be. At least that was Regis’s hope. 

There was a soft knock on the door. There wasn’t any formal announcement of who had arrived before the door opened. Regis knew who was there. The last piece he had to place before he could set his plans in motion. 

“You wanted to see me, Majesty?” Cor’s voice was strained as he approached, and Regis knew the other man felt the difference in the air. After all, Cor had spent most of his life by his side. 

“I did.” Regis turned, finally looking to see the man that approached. He swallowed hard, the aching in his chest magnified now. It had hurt to send away his son. Now that he was sending away one of his lovers, it hurt worse. 

“There have been a lot of rumors floating around about this peace treaty.” Cor was making his way up the stairs, and Regis gripped his walking stick tighter. 

“Yes. There has.” Regis shifted closer to Cor as they soon became within touching distance. His heart was in his throat, painfully stressed as he forced the emotions from surfacing. 

Cor waited patiently for the words that Regis had for him. It made it more difficult to say them. “I need you to escort Noctis out of the city. You are to stay with him until after the signing ceremony. Under no circumstance are you to return to the city before that time.” 

Cor opened his mouth in protest, but Regis lifted his hand. “That is an order from your King. I need you to keep my son safe.” 

The unsaid portion of those words were stronger.  _ ‘I don’t want you to go down with me.’ _ Regis stepped forward, bridging the little distance between them that there was. He swallowed, and pulled out an envelope with Cor’s name scrolled on the front. “Open this after the signing, before you come back to the city. Not a moment before.”

Cor simply stared at Regis, muscles tense and unmoving. His eyes didn’t move from Regis’s face, not to the outstretched letter nor the door as it opened behind them. 

“Why?” The word was strained, different. There was the hope of hiding emotions there, Regis would only know this from how intimately he knew the man. He was hurt. 

“I need to guarantee Noctis makes it safely to Altissia. I do not trust Emperor Aldercapt or Chancellor Izunia. You know what Noctis is. His safety is more important than anyone in Eos.” Even if there were part truths to the words, Regis couldn’t help but hide the full truth. He had written it all down for Cor. He would be able to know later.

“Majesty.” The words came from the doorway, and Regis knew that his time to say goodbye was shortening. His voice was stuck in his throat, which was suddenly drier than it had been moments before. 

“Cor. Just, promise me you will keep him safe and stay out of Insomnia until he has made it to Altissia.” Regis reached out, grabbing Cor’s hand and forcing the letter into his hand. “Promise.” 

There was another moment where they simply looked at each other. Finally, Cor took the letter, and stepped back. “As you wish, your Majesty.” And with a final bow, Cor departed. Regis knew this was more than likely the last time he would see the Marshal. He hoped that the man would stay away from the city if it fell. And if he fell with it. 

~~~~

  
  


“The decreed hour has come.” Regis spoke from atop his throne, eyes only for his son. Noctis and his retainers were ready, packed and seeking the King’s send off on their mission. “Set forth with my blessing, Prince Noctis.”

There was a pain there that Regis couldn’t explain. The dread that this was the last moment he would have with his son, panic filling his chest... He forced the feelings away as he watched Noctis bow his head. 

“Thank you.” Noctis’s voice was carefully restraining the emotions. Then as an afterthought, ”your Majesty.” 

“Take your leave and go with the grace of the Gods.” These were the same words that Mors had used to him, and his father to him, and his father to him for as long as Kings had gone out into the world and searched for the weapons of past Kings and Queens. Yet, it felt wrong in Regis’s mouth. 

It was wrong, and the look on Noctis’s face made that abundantly clear. 

“Right.” Breathlessly the young Prince muttered, and it was an arrow to the chest. 

Noctis turned and pushed past his Shield, Clarus’s son. The other retainers, Prompto and Ignis, gave each other a glance as Gladio stared at Noctis. As they quickly bowed, Regis knew he could not let this be their last moments. 

Noctis fled, slamming the great doors of the throne room closed behind him. Wincing, Regis stood, gesturing to Titus to follow him. 

“Come,” They moved, wanting to catch Noctis before Cor took them from the city. It was the last time he would see either of them. “Stop him from leaving, I will be but a step behind.” 

“Yes, your Majesty.” Titus’s back disappeared as Regis limped behind after him. Cane, step. Cane, step. 

He could hear Titus’s feet ahead, pushing through the doors and into the elevators to the base floor. Regis could feel his heart hammering in his chest. For all the years he had tried to be a good father to Noctis, he hoped that one day he would see it all. There was so much he wanted to tell Noctis. That he was proud of him, that he knew he would be a good King. That he loved him so very much. 

“Your Highness!” Regis heard Titus calling after Noctis as the doors to the Citadel’s courtyard were flung open. Regis took a steadying breath and walked into the fresh morning air. 

Noctis turned then, glancing upon the two of them at the top of the steps. The moments were dwindling away, and there was not enough time for Regis to make sure Noctis knew everything he could. 

“What now?” The prince sighed and Regis pushed through. He understood what Noctis was irritated with. If only he could just come out and say it. 

“I fear I have left too much unsaid.” The first set of steps behind him, Regis could feel his body complaining. The exertion the wall had put on him had only made his body weaker with age. 

Noctis rushed to his side, seeing how much he had exerted himself to catch up to the youth. Regis held up a hand, feeling confident that he could still stand. “You place a great burden on those who would bear with you.”

There was a chuckle from Noctis, a warming, happy sound that made it just a little easier to keep walking. “You’re one to talk.”

Now was the moment to make sure those boys he had watched grow with his son knew that they too had a role to play “I ask not that you guide my wayward son, merely that you remain at his side.” 

Would Clarus, Weskham, Cor and Cid have remained with Regis if they had known he would have to die to save the world? Yes. There would be nothing that would have changed what they did. Regis could only hope now that these four would remain thicker than blood while they saved Eos. 

“Indeed, Your Grace.” Of course, Ignis would respond, bowing low in respect. The devotion in the one moment warmed Regis to the core. 

“We’ll see the prince to Altissia if it's the last thing we see.” Gladiolus Amicitia, loyal to a fault, just like his father. If only he knew what burden he would have to bear, being the Shield of the Chosen King. 

“Yeah!” Prompto Argentum, the pleb from Niflheim. The only one of the four who didn’t have to be there. Yet, Regis was glad that Noctis had a friend who cared about him enough to risk his life for him. “What he said.” 

“Hate to break this up, but Cor’s got the motor running.” Noctis turned towards the car once more. “Drautos! He’s in your hands!”   
  


_ It isn’t enough time, just a moment longer _ . “And another thing.” Regis was thankful that Noctis turned so he could see Auela’s eyes looking back at him one last time. “Do mind your manners around your charming bride to be.”

Regis watched Noctis step back towards him, the pride in the man swelling in his chest, even if he was being catty. “Your Majesty as well.” Noctis bowed, “Try to mind yours around our esteemed guests from Niflheim.”

“You have no cause for concern.” The lie slipped out easily. Noctis must know nothing could possibly be astray.

“Nor do you.” 

“Take heed. Once you step forth, you cannot turn back.” The same went for Cor. They could not come back at any cost. 

“You think I would?”

Regis stepped forward, squaring himself to his son. For a moment Regis looked down, steeling himself against everything he might say. “I need only know that you are ready to leave home behind.” 

“Don’t know about you but I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Those words were enough to know that he hadn’t failed. 

“Take care on the long road.” The words stop Noctis once more. How many things could Regis get out before it was too late? 

“Wheresoever you should go, the line of Lucis goes with you.”  _ Even when I am gone from this world, I will be here with you. _ Regis placed his hand on Noctis’s shoulder, being strong as he did the most difficult thing he had done in his entire life. 

“Walk tall my son.”  _ I love you. _

~~~~

The throne room was quieter than normal. It had seen less traffic with all the preparations going on. So much was happening, and it was as if time itself was standing still. Momentum had a way of doing that. The courtyard entrance to the Citadel had been busy. Delegates and liaisons moving to and fro. It was happening, and it was all he could do to keep himself centered. 

His weight was heavy on the cane by his side. The door to the throne room clicked open, the hard sound of polished heels on marble echoed. 

“Her royal Highness, Princess Lunafreya of Tenebrae.”

Regis turned before he could really stop himself. The feeling of shock translated onto his face. It was one thing knowing and another thing seeing. Yet, even though this threw all his plans through the wringer, he couldn’t help but smile.

Fully facing the party, Regis noted the Crownsguard to Luna’s left and a Glaive to her right. 

“It has been a long time,” Luna smiled, her hands folded elegantly in front of her. “Your Majesty.”

Age had created a beautiful woman of Luna, and Regis couldn’t help the full smile over his features. “Yes, far too long.”

Regis moved to sit on the throne as Luna ascended the steps. He watched her, seeing just how graceful she had become. She looked so much like her mother it was striking. She would make a good Queen, regardless of the circumstances. 

“Prince Noctis isn’t here, is he?” Although she must know the answer, Luna still looked around the room as if he would pop from the corner and surprise them all.

“No, my dear. He is not.” Though Regis was the one to speak, Luna only sighed as if dejected. “I am too old to fight this war. I have no choice but to receive the Empire and accept their treaty.” 

Regis could feel his face fold and transform, sadness now replacing the momentary joy. It was getting harder to hide his emotions as the time ticked down. He averted his eyes to his lap, unable to lie to Luna’s face. “Even so, I had hoped to hold the wedding elsewhere, somewhere safe. I sent one of my Glaives to see you there.

“It is not too late. I can ready an escort. Please. Go to my son.” Regis looked up, dull blue eyes pleading. 

“No.” It was now Luna’s turn to look at her hands. “Wherever I go, the Empire will follow. It would only place the Prince in greater danger. It is my duty to protect the Prince and see his destiny fulfilled. These twelve years have not changed that.”

Luna spoke with determination, shaking her head as she looked back up. 

“And what of your destiny?” Regis felt the pain he had been avoiding stab through him once more. 

“My duty is my destiny, Your Majesty.” No hesitation in her words, no wavering tone to her voice. Yet still, she could not keep her eyes locked with him. “I’m prepared to accept whatever may come to pass.” 

~~~~

Fireworks exploded all around the Citadel as Regis stood, surrounded by the happy and celebrating council members. They were pleased by the upcoming peace promised to them. No more wars. No more fighting. No more dead sons and daughters. It was mostly the refugees who detested this peace, and there was nothing Regis could do to sate them. 

Clarus was at his side, the only stabilizing piece of his life. They were smiling, laughing as if they too were happy with this treaty. In reality, the facade was to protect their broken hearts. Both their sons were outside the wall, but it was for their own good. 

A thin man approached, one of the men who worked in the Citadel. He bowed low before approaching. “Your Majesty? May I have a word?”

Regis looked back to Clarus with a nod before they wandered away from the spot they had been. It wasn’t until they were thoroughly alone that the man spoke once more. “The Glaive that was sent on the infiltration mission to Tenebrae,” He paused, a look of worry etched into his features. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, barely audible. “Her body was brought back to Insomnia this morning. Starscourge fills her veins.”

Everything made sense all of a sudden. Why Lunafreya had come to the city instead of where Regis had intended for her. Who could have known about this secret mission except a small handful? It was worrying that they had a spy and worse… the poor girl.

Nodding, Regis looked towards the steps arching to the top of the citadel. “Tell Drautos I need to speak with him as soon as he is free. Until then, I have the Empire to entertain.” 

Regis waved the man off as Emperor Aldercapt approached through another flourish of fireworks in the sky. He walked slowly, his body heavy with age, even heavier than Regis’s. Regis waited, watching his move like they were two cats waiting to pounce on the same pray. Aldercapt, unlike Regis, had two of his own guard on either side of him. A show of fear and not of trust. 

“A grand reception, King Regis. You honor all of Niflheim.” The words were laced with venom. 

Regis spoke in return, “Oh, the honor is ours, Emperor Aldercapt. You have ventured far to grace us with your presence.” 

Aldercapt raised his arms wide, looking up to the sky. “It was the very least I could do!” As he spoke, Aldercapt looked back down, ending with his eyes locked on Regis’s. 

There is hate pulsing between them and Regis bowed his head, ever so slightly. 

“Tomorrow will be a historic day for both our nations.” Aldercapt paused, a look like he swallowed a fly. “And your Insomnia!” The elder man gestured theatrically to the city. “Is truly a marvel. My own cities pale in comparison.” 

There was a moment where Regis could only smirk, reveling in the jealousy that had shown itself in the Emperor’s eyes. 

“I pray we are able to take away much from this visit.” Aldercapt’s mouth creaked upwards in the corners, and Regis knew in that moment that every precaution he had made was not in vain. Something was cooking right under the surface and tomorrow, they would find out. 

~~~~

Regis couldn’t sleep, even after Clarus had spent the whole night with him. They had lain together, and although Regis didn’t want to admit it, he knew it was the last time. His hand brushed over Clarus’s face, across his worn, scarred body. He loved it as much as he had the first time he had lain together. In another world, they would have grown old together. 

He rose before Clarus, dressing himself for the signing ceremony and making his way to the throne room where he would be left alone to think. 

Hours passed as the sun came up, bathing Insomnia with its warming light. Everywhere in the Citadel, Regis heard people preparing for the treaty signing. He was brought coffee and refused breakfast. His stomach was in knots to the point that if he ate, he may have been sick. 

As he suspected, the crowd arrived just before Aldercapt and his convoy. Regis watched the man with disgust settling in his chest. Aldercapt stepped from the car, and waved at the cheering crowd. They might have seen him as a hero now, but soon, they too would know the truth. 

At some point, Clarus had entered the room, approaching silently from behind him. Regis knew it was him, from the soft steps to the billowing robes. And finally, by his smell. 

“The ceremony is in less than two hours. We must make ready.” Clarus didn’t ask why Regis left their bed early. There wasn’t much to say, in reality. Regis turned to look at him only briefly before his eyes returned to watching Aldercapt disappear into the Citadel. 

“Very well.”

As they began to move down the steps of the throne room, the doors went wide and Reginald spoke breathlessly. “Your Majesty. A man of the Kingsglaive is here, sire. He demands an audience.” 

“Demands?” Before Regis could inquire further, the Kingsglaive is in the room. 

“Your Majesty, Please.” A purple tail billowed behind the man, and Regis couldn’t help but think he should recognize this man. 

“Halt.” The guards tried to stop the young soldier, but he was too persistent and he pushed through. 

  
“Give the order to deploy the Glaives.” The man was at the steps, falling to one knee in prostration. His eyes were pleading. Then, it hit Regis. 

“You?”

“A Niflheim fleet makes ready for war. Twenty miles to the south.” The Glaive was breathless, and Regis remembered the man's name. Nyx Ulric. Titus Drautos had mentioned him many times. Regis remembered him as the Glaive with too much spirit for a uniform. 

“An Imperial fleet?” Clarus growled out the words as if they were weapons themselves. 

“And they have the Princess.” Nyx’s last words brought a scowl to Regis’s face. 

“Clarus, post guards outside the treaty room.” Regis could feel Clarus directly on his back, not needing to look at him to give him the order. 

“It will be seen as a lack of peace.” Clarus tensed, an aura Regis is very familiar with. The anger of the fight. 

“Which we all harbor. See it done.” Regis paused, wondering if he should voice his next thoughts. “We may very well have to take Emperor Aldercapt into custody.” 

Clarus stepped back in shock. “Detain him? That would go beyond a new declaration of war!”

“We are still at war! Clarus!” Regis looked to Clarus, who was now at his side. He could read the man in every breath and twitch. 

“And you, Nyx Ulric. How soon can the Kingsglaive deploy?”

The look on Nyx’s face shifted from shock to determination in an instant. “On your word. At once!”

“Go then!” Regis would have Luna protected if it was the last thing he did. “Save Luna!”

Nyx nodded, determination spreading through his body as he moved. He was gone, and Regis and Clarus were but a step behind. 

“The crystal must be secured. I do not trust Aldercapt. He is up to something.” Regis moved quickly, quicker than he normally did with his bum knee. It hurt, but he needed to do this. 

Together, while Clarus arranged extra security all over the Citadel, they made their way to the crystal chamber. As they walked, Crownsguard moved past in every direction, securing the property with the threat of multiple Imperial airships just outside the city limits. 

Neither Clarus nor Regis said anything, arriving at the doors just in time to see the crystal slide away from view. The metal doors snapped closed and locked, making a break in almost impossible. With a slight relief, he looked to the Crownsguard and let his hammering heart calm for a moment. 

“No one is to view the crystal while the Empire is in Insomnia. You are to protect the crystal with your life.” Regis spoke, his voice firm and commanding regardless of the fact that it felt like he was on uneven ground. 

“Yes, Majesty.” 

And with that, they made their way to the treaty room. There was no other reason Regis could delay his meeting with the Emperor any longer. With the crystal locked up and under heavy guard and Luna soon to be back in Lucian hands, Regis was feeling better and more confident than he had. 

The room that had been picked for the treaty signing was large and ornate, one of the council chambers that they used only for televised events, due to its splendor. Two sides had been set up facing the large dias, Lucians on one side and Imperials on the other. At the head of the assembled party, sitting on the twin throne corresponding to the Imperial Congregation, was Emperor Aldercapt. He looked like a pleased and well fed house cat. There was a soft smile on his lips and a lazy hunger in his eyes. The whole hall stood at his approach, and Regis was surprised to see Iedolas stand as well. 

Regis moved quickly, finding his place as he sat himself on the other twin throne. “Forgive my delay. A bit of unforseen trouble.”

“Nothing too vexing, I hope.” Aldercapt sat a moment after Regis. 

“A simple theft. Nothing more.” Regis forced his voice to sound nonchalant. 

“A daring thief to steal from the King. Perhaps magical walls and castle gates do not keep all things safe.” Regis loathed the mockery in the man’s voice, but continued to look straight, his eyes trained on the camera now setting up before them. 

“Perhaps. But no matter. That which was taken will soon be returned.” Every moment, Regis knew this to be true. Having one step up on the Emperor filled Regis with confidence. 

“Impressive.” Aldercapt shifted, and Regis could feel the man’s gaze upon him. However, Regis would not turn just yet to meet his gaze. “You are a paragon of Kingly composure!” There was a dramatic hand gesture, emphasizing the words. “But I must ask. How can you be so sure?” Iedolas leaned forward, coming closer than Regis was comfortable with. However, he still would not make eye contact with the man. 

Regis did lean forward, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Because this thing is no mere trinket. It possesses a will all its own.” Finally, Regis turned, blue eyes meeting blue. “Enough to break any thieves' grasp.” 

That same low hum again passed Iedolas’s lips. “That sounds like a very fine prize, indeed.” 

Clarus approached, and Emperor Aldercapt shifted back in his seat, facing the cameras once more. Once Clarus was close, he cupped his hand to Regis’s ear, whispering the words. “The Glaives have recovered the Princess, Your Majesty.” 

The door to the room opened as the Senior Scientia entered, carrying the treaty in its large leather tome. Both the rulers stood, and the rest of the court followed their lead. 

“Have you found your thief?” Iedolas’s tone was playful and light. 

“We have.” Regis’s piercing blue eyes followed the treaty to the table as they walked the few steps from twin thrones to the solid stone table. “And what was stolen remains intact.”

“Joyous news.” The fake happiness was tangible, and it was bitter. “I am relieved to hear it.” 

“Tell me, how heavy a sentence does the crime of theft carry in your Empire?” Regis gripped his cane, knowing that as they skirted the issue, Aldercapt knew what he meant. 

“Among the heaviest. Although there is,” A old, thin finger like a spider's leg rose to the sky at his speech. “One exception.”

“What is that?”

“A curious old law I still permit in the outlands. A thief who escapes his captor can no longer be held to account for his crimes.” 

_ Curious. _ “A warning to the victim. Never show weakness, lest you forgo the hand of justice.”

“Oh no good King. Far from it.” Aldercapt shifted, turning to face Regis once more as the treaty was laid on the table, spine down and pages open. “It is a warning to the hand of justice itself, never to loose its grip.” 

The treaty was in plain sight, and all they had to do was sign. Regis reached out for the pen, and that was when many things happened at once. There was an explosion that rocked the Citadel at its very core. Screams echoed from outside and, even through thick walls, Regis could feel the fear and panic. A second explosion came from inside the Citadel itself, and Regis knew where it was. It was far above them, and only one thing could hold the Empire’s interest up there; the crystal. Lastly, the entire chamber erupted into action. 

Mr. Scientia pulled a gun as Regis reached across his body, summoning the Armiger. The Imperial side all drew their own weapons as the councilmen and Lucian nobles drew theirs. As Regis stared through Armiger crystals at Iedolas, he could feel the wall tumbling down and the crystal dislodged from its safe place. 

“The crystal will not serve you!” Regis growled the words out, hatred pulsing in his blood. 

“Nor you once I take it from this accursed city.” As the Emperor spoke, an Imperial dropship flew by and half a dozen MT soldiers crashed through the high windows on the wall behind them. They stood, like poor examples of marianets, limbs disjointed as if broken, whirling in place until they stood in a facade of humanity. They started firing from their hands long before they were standing fully. 

Regis was quick, and two shields formed around himself and the closest of the councilmen. The bullets ricocheted off the magic, posing no more harm than a fly. However, instead of attacking further, the MTs walked away, escorting Aldercapt and his council members. This had been their plan all along, and they were going to escape from Insomnia with the crystal in tow. 

Anger like none he had ever felt pulsed through him, and Regis forced a wave of electric magic from his fingertips, electrocuting the remaining MTs and forcing them to the ground. Only then did Regis let the shields drop. 

“Come, we must escape while we can.” Clarus took a step forward, urging his King. 

“No, Clarus.” There was sorrow in Regis’s voice as he turned to the broken window. The bad feeling he had the past few weeks was finally proving itself to be more than just a suspicion. Everything was playing out just as his worst case scenario. “I fear escape is no longer an option.” 

An all too familiar metallic whirring noise filled the room just moments before an armored man flew through the air, landing just feet before them. 

“General Glauca.” Regis turned, facing the being who had been there at every turn of his worst moments. 

The four remaining council members rushed forward. They were willing to die for their King. If they had known what Glauca was capable of, perhaps they would have fled instead of fought.

“It has been a long time since I fought at your side, old friend.” The look in Clarus’s eyes made Regis want to break. He knew what he swore to when he became the Shield all those years ago. Clarus, like all good Shields, was to die to protect his King.

  
“Yes, but this time it is not your fight. If you wish to leave, go now.” It was the last plea Regis had for Clarus to save himself. He had saved Cor, and would have sent Clarus away as well if he could. No one else had to die; they would not seek the blood of a Shield once the King was dead. 

“And abandon my King? I think not.” Clarus understood, and it made Regis tremble for a moment, swallowing hard as he kept eyes locked on his Shield. “Besides, our magic is bound to you. If you fall, Lucis falls.”

For a moment, Regis wished that Clarus would just run, save himself for his son. It was too late for both of them, and every time Regis thought about his own death, he had known Clarus would die, too. “Then let us once more into the fray, old friend.” 

They shifted into a protective stance, the council members first, Clarus directly postured before Regis, ready to strike. Glauca had waited, as if this conversation was important for them to have. However, now, it was time to act. Glauca attacked, slashing the council members aside as if they were nothing more than pesky flies. His sword came up in preparation for a downward strike. 

Clarus parried, pushing Glauca back. Regis summoned more electricity, hitting Glauca in the chest, but the metal man was unfazed. Regis watched as Clarus too was tossed aside, and the attack came for him. 

The full force of the Armiger came forward, and Regis blocked the attack, his many ethereal swords to Glauca’s one. It took every ounce of his strength. 

Clarus rushed forward to attack Glauca from behind, but the General was too quick. The whole world turned upside down as Glauca parried the strike, disarming Clarus and sending the sword skyward. The large gauntleted hand moved, grabbing Clarus from under the chin and tossing him over Regis’s head, bashing through the Armiger blades and towards the wall. 

Regis stumbled backwards, his eyes torn from Clarus’s now airborn body and Glauca. The gauntlet wrapped around Clarus’s blade and that too flew towards the far wall. Regis felt the blade connect and watched as Clarus slumped against the wall, dead. 

“Clarus!” Regis’s voice was distant. 

There wasn't time for mourning as more gunfire echoed from the square and the crystal came into view through the now shattered windows. 

Glauca struck again, the downward motion of his sword colliding with the summoned protective shield. “You have the crystal.”  _ You have taken my soul. _ “What more would you take from me?”

No matter how much Regis asked, Glauca didn't respond. The magical barrier shattered. Regis was taken aback, his fight… gone. Cold metal gripped Regis’s wrist and pulled. His eyes snapped shut. There was pain and blood as several fingers were severed and the Ring of the Lucii clattered to the ground. It rolled, and while the pain should be great, Regis felt little of it. 

Regis’s eyes followed the ring, rolling until it stopped right in front of Ravus’s feet. Ravus, who Regis had not noticed before this moment, had a smug expression on his lips as he picked it up. “The ring of the Lucii.”

Regis collapsed to one knee, grasping his hand to his chest. 

“I lost my mother, my country, my birth right. Niflheim was the only life left to me. But all of that was for this!” Ravus lifted the ring level with his crystal blue eyes. The sly grin spread wider. “The ring belongs to me now.” 

Regis filled with horror as Ravus slipped the ring on his finger. Glauca moved, whereas Regis could not. The very moment Glauca moved to strike Ravus down, Luna and Nyx ran into the room. 

As quickly as it had happened, Ravus was on the floor, arm ablaze as he screamed in agony. While the others didn’t know what had happened, Regis knew all too well. The ring rolled back from Ravus to Regis’s feet and Glauca’s blade cut the air. 

Luna looked at her brother, disgust on her features. As Regis picked up the ring with his right and uninjured hand, Luna called out. 

“Look out!” Luna ran to Regis’s side without any regard for her own safety. Glauca had moved to cut him down next, but Nyx, the true hearted Glaive worthy of the King’s magic, warped to intercept the blade. 

Regis felt a wave of obligation wash over him, seeing Luna there for him. He stood as the Glaive fought Glauca. Together, they retreated across the room. 

They moved to the wall, and with a wave of his right hand, Regis opened a hidden compartment in the wall. It was an elevator. “Quickly, through here.” Regis summoned Nyx as he used his electric magic to pin Glauca. The armored monster collapsed to one knee as Nyx warped inside, just as the doors closed. 

In the blink of an eye, Luna was tending to his hand. The pain was nothing but a dull throbbing and even as she ripped apart her dress, Regis knew it wasn't worth it. There is little left for Regis in this world. 

“This leads to a hidden passageway. Follow it.” Regis addressed Nyx first before turning to Luna. “Once you are away, make for Altissia. Noctis awaits you there.” 

“Your Majesty.” Luna started, but Nyx was quick to interrupt. 

“You knew this was coming.”

“Yes.” Regis started, even if he didn’t know all of it, he had known enough. “But it was the only way to draw their wrath from Noctis.” 

Noctis. The only reason left that Regis had to fight. All of this had been done for Nocits, and the Prince would never even know what had happened. The last part of his heart that could feel throbbed with the failure he had been as a father. Insomnia fell and Noctis was in more danger than he had ever been. Worst of all, he had not been able to say all the things he wished to say. 

Regis’s hand was bandaged as Nyx dug his fangs in deeper. “Is that the way of our King?” The words were spit from the hero’s lips and full of venom that Regis deserved. “Sacrifice Lucian sons to save his own?”

Regis moved, opened his mouth, but it was Luna who spoke. “To save the world.” Her voice was pleading and the sorrow in it was tangible. 

There was a heartbeat of a moment where there was silence. Regis shifted his gaze from Luna and her radiance, to Nyx. “See Luna safely to Altissia.” 

Nyx nodded, and Regis needed to tell him something more. “This is not an order from a King to his Glaive.” There was no more time for that, with the hourglass running dangerously low on sand. “This is a plea from one man to another. Please,” and if the man took anything from his words ever, he hoped they were these. “Nyx Ulric, keep her safe. For the future of all.” 

Nyx turned away, the words tumbling carelessly from his lips. “The future?”

There was a loud noise as something heavy connected with the elevator, shaking it as it finished its descent and finally stopped. 

“Here,” Regis pressed the ring into Luna’s hand. “Take this. It is time it passed to another’s keeping.” 

There was sorrow on the Oracle’s face as she gently handled the Ring of the Lucii. For one long moment, her blue eyes were locked on it. The doors shuddered open, and they exited with Nyx in the lead. 

Luna’s hand, by instinct it seemed, pulled Regis forward. There was a pang deep in Regis’s gut, a scene of a forest ablaze, gunfire ringing around them, the feel of Noctis’s small hands on his shoulder and Luna’s small hand in his own. 

Regis pulled away, stopping as Luna and Nyx moved several more steps. Her brain took a second longer to process what had happened, turning in horror. The look on her face reminded him of those many years ago when he had failed. He would not fail Luna again. Never again. 

Regis screwed up his face, refusing to let his emotions through. He would not be afraid and he would not cry. This was the last thing he needed to do. For Luna. For Noctis. A magical barrier formed between them, Nyx and Luna on one side with Regis, alone, on the other. 

“No!” Luna’s cry shook Regis to the core. “Please! Stop!” She was too slow, the barrier solidly in place long before she could get to it. 

“Get back!” Nyx knew the power of the magical barrier, stopping Luna from pounding against it. 

“Please!” Regis knew this was going to be hard; his resolve wavered at her words only slightly. “Don’t leave us!” 

Luna’s pleas rang out, but Regis had to do this. “I know your mother would wish the same as me.” 

There was sorrow anew on Luna’s countenance. Regis pressed on without pausing. “That you and Noctis live happily. All those years captive, all because I failed you.” Even through his words, Luna shook her head fervently. Regis settled his resolve, made his peace. “Not again. Locked doors will seal your fate no longer.”

“King Regis,” Luna pleaded once more, but it was too late. The elevator rumbled behind him, and Regis knew that the last few grains of sand were waiting to fall. 

“Our hope goes with you now, Nyx Ulric. Godspeed.” 

These words affected Nyx just as Regis had wished them to. His face contorted, the pain of the situation even too much for him. He was a good man, and Regis knew he would protect Luna to the grave. Nyx’s eyes moved from Regis to Luna and back. The decision passed across his features, and it snapped into place. Resolve. 

The Glaive’s fingers grabbed at Luna, moved her away. Just then the elevator collapsed, revealing Glauca. He hovered to the ground, landing across the grand, round chamber they were all in. 

Glauca’s right hand snapped to his chest and he bowed low, the sword in his left hand tracing an invisible semicircle before him. Once this was complete, he looked up, meeting Regis’s gaze. It was then that the King realized what Glauca was. 

Glauca stood tall, and Regis knew it was time to forget about Luna. She had passed his ability to protect, spare this. Regis gripped his cane for the last time, and tossed it to the side. 

Glauca charged, and even if it was perilous, Regis fought back. Electricity sparked at his fingertips, shooting forward and finally holding the man back. Glauca, the man who took everything from him, he would not lose to him now. Anger tossed Glauca aside, crashing him into a pillar. Chunks dislodged from the ancient carvings as Glauca rose to stand once more. 

Again, Regis forced lightning onto Glauca. The large broadsword shifted, and blocked the beam. 

_ Aulea.  _

_ Noctis.  _

_ Clarus. _

_ Luna. _

_ Insomnia. _

“Behold the King of Lucis.” The metallic voice rang forward from the suit, final proof that there was a person inside. “Who hoarded tranquility within his precious walls.” 

Glauca stepped forward as Regis continued to pour everything into his magic.  _ Aulea. Noctis. Clarus.  _ “Where is your tranquility now, King?” Glauca stepped forward, unfazed as Regis used everything he still had to keep Glauca at bay. “Here is your peace, by steel’s swift descent.”

They were a breath away from each other, blue eyes staring into the daemonic red glow of six. Regis shook his head, the backlash of electricity blasting away a chunk of Glauca’s helmet. 

The man beneath was familiar, and in that moment, Regis shattered. Time stopped and he staggered backwards. An old, weathered face stared back at him. Piercing and sad blue eyes that Regis knew so well. His heart twisted in his chest as they gazed through the eternal second that was spared those who are greeting death. How long had this man been traitor to Lucis?

Regis turned, and he didn't notice that Glauca turned, too. Eyes only for Luna, safely on the other side of the barrier. He opened his mouth, needing to warn Luna of one last thing.

_ Why does she look so frantic? _ Luna tossed herself against the wall, watching as a sharp and unknown pain erupted from Regis’s torso. Regis noted a hint of metal in a place it should not have been and an inhuman scream that echoed about him. The pain, so intense and consuming, stopped all at once. 

Regis’s eyes did not leave Luna’s. She must have known, and yet, the energy left to him was fading fast. Old and worn hands grabbed the glinting steel, and Regis gasped. One final word as his vision blurs. “Go.” 

The blade was cool as it pulled from him. Regis could feel his knees falling to the ground. A hand pushed him roughly onto the ground. He felt not any of the pain he knew should be there. 

Breathing was labored, but his vision had grown dark. A blue, crystal light beckoned him. 

Regis felt his spirit lightening. He felt a warm and calm hand grasp him. 

_ Clarus? _

No. It is not Clarus, but Bahamut. **_“In another life. To guide the King of Kings, your destiny is here.”_ **

This place was not the afterlife, nor was it the place where his loved ones would go. Now, The Father waits for The Son to make the final sacrifice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have watched this movie so many times, watched Clarus die trying to save his King (his love) and the look that Regis has for him. I have watched Regis die and watched Titus's remorse (Some believe he is screaming in triumph, but I fully believe that it is Titus screaming through Glauca). It hurts so much but it is such a love story! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my fiction and fell in love with RegClar like me. 
> 
> But "Wait", you are saying. "There is one more chapter!"
> 
> Why yes. The Epilogue is from Cor's POV, so it is going to hurt. Sorry. It is worth the read though. Ouchie. 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	11. Epilogue - Cor from over the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the King is dead, what is left for those who remain?

The ground crunched underfoot as Cor paced backwards and forwards. Icy blue eyes stared at the walls of Insomnia. It was so close, and yet, the wall was not the only thing keeping him out. Everything was not okay. He knew it in his bones, and he knew it in his heart.

The walls were no barrier to stop Cor the Immortal. It was a promise, an order to remain outside until Noctis was in Altissia. 

Cor had left Noctis and his retainers shortly after leaving the city. They had driven through the physical walls and been escorted through the magical barrier that protected the city. Passing that final threshold had felt like a dagger to the chest. Everything that Cor loved was in that city. He had been told to abandon it and trust in his King. 

He had told the Prince that he was going to meet back up with him before he went to Tenebrae. They could handle themselves while Cor did what he needed to. That was how he had found himself, clutching the letter Regis had given him as he paced on the barren land of the overwatch, staring at the city. 

There were way too many Imperial Ships in the air. The horrible mechanical whirring noise filled the sky like a million wasps. It made Cor’s skin prickle and the anger at the Empire rise. Regis had known, and he had ordered Cor outside the city. 

Was it to protect him, or was it to protect Noctis? Perhaps it was both. 

The ships shifted in an instant towards the wall, the magical barrier shimmering in the midday light. Despite himself, Cor’s heart leapt in his chest. He wanted to break his word, run after Regis, Clarus, Drautos, his city. Something stopped him. His heart was fighting. 

Loyalty grounded him to place. His King had given him an order, and he was to follow it. Love and personal connections made the lion in him want to strike. That anger had been buried long ago, but now, it was rising up from the pit of his stomach and blossoming into his chest. It was a fire, and the two halves of himself battled amidst that fire. 

In an instant, there was a loud crack, and Cor was stunned as his eyes blinked. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The magical barrier was cracking like a hard boiled egg. The pieces of the wall chipped away and fell before disintegrating into nothing. The water trembled, massive waves cascading outwards to land at the base of the cliff a mile below his feet. 

The wall was failing, which meant something had gone terribly wrong. Panic filled Cor, and still, he couldn’t move. The Imperial ships pressed inward. The moment they had been waiting for had come. Disbelief filled Cor as he watched. 

His knees bit into the earth, sharp rocks unforgiving through the thick jeans. Even if he wanted to, Cor would not be able to get to his King in time. Regis had known this would happen, so he had to put his faith that they had prepared for this. It was all he had. 

An eternity passed as Cor watched, waiting. The dull throbbing in his body was the only thing tethering him to his body. Everything felt wrong and all he could do was wait. 

It happened slowly, the feeling he had known for so long trickling away to an ebb. At first, Cor didn’t realize what the feeling was. Perhaps just his heart aching at the loss of the city. Then, it was obvious that a gaping hole was being torn from his collar bone to his navel. It leaked out of him, and he knew that Regis’s life was being drawn to a close. 

Something wet  _ dripped  _ upon the letter still clutched in his hands. Cor had almost forgotten that it was in his possession, and confused, he looked down and stared at the solitary drop on the pristine white paper. 

Cor felt something tighten in his chest.  _ “Open this after the signing, before you come back to the city. Not a moment before.” _ Did any of this matter if the signing never happened? It had all been a trap. 

As more tears fell down his stoic face, Cor tore into the letter, hands shaking as he looked at the elegant scroll that he knew well. It was Regis’s handwriting. Swallowing hard, his eyes read the page. 

_ ‘Cor,’  _

It started off so simply that Cor felt his breath hitch in his chest as the tears flowed faster. 

_ ‘Cor, _

_ If you are reading this that means never again shall we see one another. I wished for Clarus to leave my side as well, but alas, what good is a King without a Shield?  _

_ I am sorry things had to end this way, there were many things I would have loved to do for everyone. However, the gods' will is absolute and this was ordained as part of Noctis’s trial to become the True King. He will save the world, and with that thought, I will go to my death knowing that I have done some good for Eos. _

_ I need you now more than ever. My son needs to remain safe. Noctis is in your hands now, and while he might hate me, I wish for you to continue to guide him towards being a proper King. If anyone can do it, it's you. _

_ There are so many things I wish I could say to you, but I will leave it at this. Meeting you and spending most of my life in your companionship was one of the greatest pleasures. May you live long and be happy.  _

_ Regis _

Cor felt his entire body tremble, head now bowed with sobs. “You fool.”

If his King's dying wish was that Cor was to serve a new King, then he would give everything to Noctis. He would not let another King die before him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire fiction has been one of my greatest undertakings and I am truly thankful to anyone who has made it all the way through. RegClar seems like such a natural fit for me (lover of all GladNoct) but their relationship is so different. I just am so in awe of how tragic this is. Why do you make me feel things SQUARE? 
> 
> Anyway. I thank you again and really hope you enjoyed this fic. 
> 
> I will cherish all the kudos on this fiction dearly and I always respond to all comments. 
> 
> Walk tall my friends and carry on.


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